<?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-4168714419683840310</id><updated>2011-11-30T14:28:58.333+08:00</updated><category term='rise and fall of the empire'/><category term='first post. first day'/><title type='text'>The Start of An Adventure</title><subtitle type='html'>A blog I made to track all the things I've been doing before and after I migrate at the United States. The laughs, the cries and the memories that I shall embrace forever.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>106</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-2613849785852227082</id><published>2011-11-30T14:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-30T14:28:58.370+08:00</updated><title type='text'>All Guys Are the Same</title><content type='html'>There's a reason why I do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told myself I wasn't going to let it happen again.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry.&amp;nbsp; It's just a little Karma. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-2613849785852227082?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/2613849785852227082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=2613849785852227082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2613849785852227082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2613849785852227082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/11/all-guys-are-same.html' title='All Guys Are the Same'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-2165707608901735359</id><published>2011-11-16T08:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T08:32:12.823+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I used to have a life... Then came college.</title><content type='html'>A&amp;amp;P Lab Exam. DONE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A&amp;amp;P Lec Exam. DONE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;History Exam. &lt;i&gt;Still reviewing&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's okay. I'm feeling smarter everyday. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IdWSC2YO47s/TsMD5uVHp_I/AAAAAAAAAKM/_YAjWTv2Um0/s1600/Photo+on+2011-11-15+at+18.31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IdWSC2YO47s/TsMD5uVHp_I/AAAAAAAAAKM/_YAjWTv2Um0/s320/Photo+on+2011-11-15+at+18.31.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My..."I'm tired and hungry" face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;4 hours and counting. I think I should just setup a tent and sleep here in the library. What do you think?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-2165707608901735359?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/2165707608901735359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=2165707608901735359' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2165707608901735359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2165707608901735359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/11/i-used-to-have-life-then-came-college.html' title='I used to have a life... Then came college.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IdWSC2YO47s/TsMD5uVHp_I/AAAAAAAAAKM/_YAjWTv2Um0/s72-c/Photo+on+2011-11-15+at+18.31.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-5533777001581609800</id><published>2011-11-14T13:53:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-14T13:54:41.700+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;style&gt;&lt;!-- /* Font Definitions */@font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}@page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;}div.Section1 {page:Section1;}--&gt;&lt;/style&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m sorry it happened this way.&amp;nbsp; You know how I am with feelings. I have a difficult time showing them.&amp;nbsp; I just don’t want to hurt you anymore. That’s why it had to be done. I’m sorry.&amp;nbsp; Maybe when we both have our own careers I’ll come back for you. I don’t know. That seems years from now, but who knows?&amp;nbsp; Hopefully, we can still be friends. If you can’t, then that’s fine.&amp;nbsp; I understand. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“When you’re ready to fall in love then you’re ready to get hurt.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m sorry. I love you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://th05.deviantart.net/fs45/PRE/f/2009/094/c/4/Cute_Couple_by_Greeen_Fairy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://th05.deviantart.net/fs45/PRE/f/2009/094/c/4/Cute_Couple_by_Greeen_Fairy.jpg" width="235" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-5533777001581609800?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/5533777001581609800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=5533777001581609800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5533777001581609800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5533777001581609800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/11/im-sorry-it-happened-this-way.html' title=''/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-4428623501457470241</id><published>2011-11-03T11:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-03T11:30:10.393+08:00</updated><title type='text'>...my new favorite toy.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5RpbovBOQFA/TrIKbuUHGZI/AAAAAAAAAKE/gjEDHAO53gQ/s1600/Photo+on+2011-09-02+at+15.11+%25233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5RpbovBOQFA/TrIKbuUHGZI/AAAAAAAAAKE/gjEDHAO53gQ/s320/Photo+on+2011-09-02+at+15.11+%25233.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-4428623501457470241?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/4428623501457470241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=4428623501457470241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4428623501457470241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4428623501457470241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/11/my-new-favorite-toy.html' title='...my new favorite toy.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5RpbovBOQFA/TrIKbuUHGZI/AAAAAAAAAKE/gjEDHAO53gQ/s72-c/Photo+on+2011-09-02+at+15.11+%25233.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-6431401866710110078</id><published>2011-10-29T11:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-29T11:20:47.124+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I should be studying.</title><content type='html'>Mood: Tired.&lt;br /&gt;Location: Tyler, TX&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_iDMVed9wJE/TqtwV4xGpxI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/c235LbWgTzQ/s1600/4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_iDMVed9wJE/TqtwV4xGpxI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/c235LbWgTzQ/s320/4.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oYewsnYa5EY/TqtwU5cr1dI/AAAAAAAAAJg/pZjMdDgYaCo/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oYewsnYa5EY/TqtwU5cr1dI/AAAAAAAAAJg/pZjMdDgYaCo/s320/1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lS5xUdncYCk/TqtwVKOYhCI/AAAAAAAAAJo/nseQTbChGOw/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6Z8DWiA8lrE/TqtwVYrq9wI/AAAAAAAAAJw/UR8J3yUhAK4/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6Z8DWiA8lrE/TqtwVYrq9wI/AAAAAAAAAJw/UR8J3yUhAK4/s320/3.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lS5xUdncYCk/TqtwVKOYhCI/AAAAAAAAAJo/nseQTbChGOw/s1600/2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lS5xUdncYCk/TqtwVKOYhCI/AAAAAAAAAJo/nseQTbChGOw/s320/2.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_iDMVed9wJE/TqtwV4xGpxI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/c235LbWgTzQ/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I think I'll go to sleep nalang. Being stuck in this room is not helping me study. Goodnight!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-6431401866710110078?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/6431401866710110078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=6431401866710110078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/6431401866710110078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/6431401866710110078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/10/because-i-should-be-studying.html' title='Because I should be studying.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_iDMVed9wJE/TqtwV4xGpxI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/c235LbWgTzQ/s72-c/4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-9124778986651132526</id><published>2011-10-26T13:50:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T07:42:59.389+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nangangapit-bahay</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wished I wasn't here. Well, we have to make sacrifices first before we get what we want. There are no easy roads, there are no short cuts either. Although it is what we make of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to a few of my friends' houses this evening. Helped ease the pain a little. Kung Pilipinas lang to, pwedeng-pwede lakarin eh. There's nothing to complain about. I'm in Tyler instead of Jefferson, and I have a car. Case closed. Okay na yan. Atleast may coche. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good times talaga. Walang kasing katulad ng pagsasamahan ng mga kaibigan. Sometimes I wished I had the ability to bring back time and experience the same thing again. I reminisce too much. I can dream right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-CkW8q9upAoU/Tqeft6mV0rI/AAAAAAAAAJY/U6zVicewOJc/s640/blogger-image-415162589.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="296" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-CkW8q9upAoU/Tqeft6mV0rI/AAAAAAAAAJY/U6zVicewOJc/s400/blogger-image-415162589.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Honda civic frenzy. Yes, I couldn't resist to park with my own kind.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-9124778986651132526?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/9124778986651132526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=9124778986651132526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/9124778986651132526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/9124778986651132526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/10/nangangapit-bahay.html' title='Nangangapit-bahay'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-CkW8q9upAoU/Tqeft6mV0rI/AAAAAAAAAJY/U6zVicewOJc/s72-c/blogger-image-415162589.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>The Reserve Apartments 2851 C.R. 272 (Adam Henry Rd.), Tyler</georss:featurename><georss:point>32.315104 -95.238555</georss:point></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-2334410204732181981</id><published>2011-10-25T13:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-25T13:05:31.084+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reminisce</title><content type='html'>Mood: Sleepy.&lt;br /&gt;Location: Home. Tyler, Texas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AKAUFXJvCl8/TqZBKogidtI/AAAAAAAAAJM/SjgzHDjF-mY/s1600/Photo+on+2011-10-23+at+20.09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AKAUFXJvCl8/TqZBKogidtI/AAAAAAAAAJM/SjgzHDjF-mY/s320/Photo+on+2011-10-23+at+20.09.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Minsan naiisip ko.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Sana tulungan niya ako sa posisyon ko ngayon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Mahirap na kasi hanapan ng sigla eh.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Para bang sinisipsip na niya ang aking kaluluwa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Ito'y iniwan ang aking katawan ng abang-aba.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Baka naman may isa pang paraan?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Para namang ako'y mapatunayan at makamtan.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Kung bakit ako'y naririto,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;kung bakit ako'y umalis at napalayo sa'yo?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;=(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-2334410204732181981?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/2334410204732181981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=2334410204732181981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2334410204732181981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2334410204732181981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/10/reminisce.html' title='Reminisce'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AKAUFXJvCl8/TqZBKogidtI/AAAAAAAAAJM/SjgzHDjF-mY/s72-c/Photo+on+2011-10-23+at+20.09.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-4423201530188132978</id><published>2011-10-11T14:18:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-11T14:20:26.915+08:00</updated><title type='text'>01:15 and I can&amp;apos;t sleep</title><content type='html'>You know how it feels when you don't know what to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know if you should just let go or hold on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I did this for a reason?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I wanted to feel better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I wanted to prove something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... Or Maybe I just wished that we never existed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe it was all a dream?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe he didn't really exist?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But how can that be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If he's one of the best things that happened to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanginang pag-ibig to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naimbento pa eh. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-4423201530188132978?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/4423201530188132978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=4423201530188132978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4423201530188132978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4423201530188132978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/10/0115-and-i-can-sleep.html' title='01:15 and I can&amp;amp;apos;t sleep'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-7815312381522297589</id><published>2011-09-02T12:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T12:03:44.918+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doctors can't spell</title><content type='html'>I remember the time when I went to the hospital at boot camp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to see the doctor to get my right shoulder checked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never forget what he said to me when he was trying to figure out the name of the drugs he was supposed to prescribe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took out his little booklet that contained all the medicines, and said, "God gave me the gift to cure the dead. But sadly, he never gave me the gift to spell."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs15/f/2007/095/0/a/Doctors_by_oolitter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="283" src="http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs15/f/2007/095/0/a/Doctors_by_oolitter.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/4168714419683840310-7815312381522297589?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/7815312381522297589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=7815312381522297589' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7815312381522297589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7815312381522297589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/09/doctors-cant-spell.html' title='Doctors can&apos;t spell'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-3061980339687539412</id><published>2011-06-29T14:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-29T14:49:03.738+08:00</updated><title type='text'>...And I'm back</title><content type='html'>Location:&amp;nbsp; Orange County, California&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May 19,2011.&amp;nbsp; The day I dreaded of leaving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure enough, I would have to, I told myself.&amp;nbsp; I was only waiting for it, not a matter of if, but when.&amp;nbsp; A fourteen hour flight exhausted every inch of my body, not mentioning the 5 hours from Washington to San Diego.&lt;br /&gt;"Chief, can I request to get separated in San Diego?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yea. Sure. If they'll take you in their TPU. Look it up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Permission Granted. I was going to San Diego. I was going to get separated there and meet my grandparents, aunts, and the rest of my relatives. Fourteen years had passed by.&amp;nbsp; Years are passing by quickly. I need to meet my grandparents before...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Orange! Kala ko hindi ka na namin makikita.&amp;nbsp; Alam mo naman, Tumatanda na kami. Buti nalang bumisita ka!"&lt;br /&gt;"Of course, Mama. I wanted to see you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A month has passed. I've met a few of my relatives; twelve, to be exact. Now there's forty-eight left. God Lord.&amp;nbsp; What a happy family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs29/f/2008/176/d/a/california_waves_by_angeladothis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs29/f/2008/176/d/a/california_waves_by_angeladothis.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-3061980339687539412?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/3061980339687539412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=3061980339687539412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3061980339687539412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3061980339687539412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/06/and-im-back.html' title='...And I&apos;m back'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-2168202702791425619</id><published>2011-04-25T00:04:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T00:04:17.325+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning to play by heart.</title><content type='html'>I sat infront of the piano waiting for an idea to emerge. Unexpectedly, I remember what my friend Ian had told me. So i turned off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/100028842118240373600/MyBlogPhotos#5599181596050671298'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_52fiD05I5iI/TbRJ_vGBRsI/AAAAAAAAABw/wZDlrCKIi7w/s288/0.jpg' border='0' width='187' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt; the lights, plugged in my headphones, and played in total darkness. I missed so many keys, but my touch had lead the whole song. Now i understand. i guess it's the same as love, huh? First we must learn and play by the rules. But when the time comes, we will eventually forget the rules and play by our hearts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Yokosuka,Japan%4035.290223%2C139.671558&amp;z=10'&gt;Yokosuka,Japan&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-2168202702791425619?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/2168202702791425619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=2168202702791425619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2168202702791425619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2168202702791425619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/04/learning-to-play-by-heart.html' title='Learning to play by heart.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_52fiD05I5iI/TbRJ_vGBRsI/AAAAAAAAABw/wZDlrCKIi7w/s72-c/0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-9111410315736742039</id><published>2011-03-31T23:13:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T23:14:04.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring: Cherry Blossom Blooms.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GT2k5W4sy7I/TZSXYLT1tAI/AAAAAAAAAHc/2cBbHuoH_CE/s1600/DSC00174.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GT2k5W4sy7I/TZSXYLT1tAI/AAAAAAAAAHc/2cBbHuoH_CE/s320/DSC00174.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Picture taken on :30MAR2011, 09:00 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_HLwDmqNcoU/TZSYPW6tXSI/AAAAAAAAAHg/iZJWE8FIfuo/s1600/DSC00178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_HLwDmqNcoU/TZSYPW6tXSI/AAAAAAAAAHg/iZJWE8FIfuo/s320/DSC00178.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Taken on: 01Apr2011: 00:25&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;beautiful, isn't it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-9111410315736742039?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/9111410315736742039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=9111410315736742039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/9111410315736742039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/9111410315736742039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/03/spring-cherry-blossom-blooms.html' title='Spring: Cherry Blossom Blooms.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GT2k5W4sy7I/TZSXYLT1tAI/AAAAAAAAAHc/2cBbHuoH_CE/s72-c/DSC00174.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-8282028128821889902</id><published>2011-03-14T21:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-14T21:12:20.235+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye.</title><content type='html'>Timothy and I had dropped you off from the airport awhile ago.&amp;nbsp; I found it hard to kiss and hug you for the very last time. I thought it best not to, in order for me not to show a tear in front of you.&amp;nbsp; It's just a matter of getting used to the fact that you're not here, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deleting your emails wasn't hard. Erasing your memory, is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;279 days...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25 hugs...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15 kisses...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9 surprises...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and 1 last Goodbye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-8282028128821889902?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/8282028128821889902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=8282028128821889902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8282028128821889902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8282028128821889902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/03/goodbye.html' title='Goodbye.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-4868446687170716817</id><published>2011-03-04T20:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-06T15:22:09.281+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Well Enjoyed Party</title><content type='html'>&lt;style&gt;@font-face {  font-family: "Cambria";}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }&lt;/style&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Two years ago I found myself amongst my kind; people who have yearned to find something for their life. I seek self-worth for myself.&amp;nbsp; As I stand in attention to the far corner of the long line the recruiters have made, I questioned myself in why I was to be here. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I was in Chicago, Illinois, in the place in what they had called the Navy’s Recruit Training Command. Two months of rigorous training, successful completion would be such an accomplishment, for you have become a sailor.&amp;nbsp; Others were sent back for medical reasons, and others just lacked the capabilities to just pass in order to graduate. I was one of the many lucky ones that managed to pass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;After boot camp, they flew me around Florida, from where I was taken to train. In this place I fell in love, I cried, and I accomplished.&amp;nbsp; Everything all happened at once, as the navy operated so quick.&amp;nbsp; I did not like it, since everything had been in ridiculously fast speed.&amp;nbsp; It was all a blur.&amp;nbsp; The moments I spent trying to figure out what I wanted out of life were never continuous.&amp;nbsp; Along the way, I met two very special people, that helped shaped me; one with now a son, and the other, now engaged.&amp;nbsp; I am truly happy for them.&amp;nbsp; But, I am even happier that I am not with them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;My first tour came around when it was time to choose orders.&amp;nbsp; I had chosen Japan.&amp;nbsp; Two of the friends I made from boot camp came along, and since then we’re inseparable.&amp;nbsp; I had come to the ship, which everybody called the USS George Washington when it all happened.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I met you, when you visited me at my work place. You were like the morning sunshine: bright, warm and unforgettable.&amp;nbsp; I never thought that you would be here in my bed waiting for me to fall sound asleep.&amp;nbsp; You look so very much like an angel, and it’s hard for me to stop looking at you.&amp;nbsp; We spent so much time together, and we managed to keep a long distant relationship while you were away.&amp;nbsp; I never did think that you would become so special to me. Somebody I would dream to be with every night I would fall asleep.&amp;nbsp; I guess I’m just thankful that I met you, because, like I said, you’re the only person that kept me sane.&amp;nbsp; I know we’re too young to get married, or even think of a stupid idea like that.&amp;nbsp; I have to leave soon, to finish College and for you, you must finish what you have started in this place.&amp;nbsp; Sooner or later I know I will start questioning myself &amp;nbsp;(again)if what I had with you was all fantasy, since it was too good to be true.&amp;nbsp; If God has a plan for us, then he will find a way.&amp;nbsp; I know I will start crying the day I will have to leave you.&amp;nbsp; I know I’ll be fine, but this mark you’ve left in my heart will always stay here.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs8/i/2005/359/5/6/The_Love_Omen_by_gilad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs8/i/2005/359/5/6/The_Love_Omen_by_gilad.jpg" width="218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-4868446687170716817?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/4868446687170716817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=4868446687170716817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4868446687170716817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4868446687170716817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/03/well-enjoyed-party.html' title='A Well Enjoyed Party'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-727707359344709490</id><published>2011-02-23T17:30:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-23T17:30:26.365+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving.</title><content type='html'>Dear God,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I always have to leave somebody...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Special?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-727707359344709490?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/727707359344709490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=727707359344709490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/727707359344709490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/727707359344709490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/02/leaving.html' title='Leaving.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-3608236971066883403</id><published>2011-02-21T22:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T14:14:53.414+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stopped.</title><content type='html'>&lt;style&gt;@font-face {  font-family: "Cambria";}@font-face {  font-family: "Marker Felt";}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }&lt;/style&gt;     &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Marker Felt&amp;quot;;"&gt;Dear God,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Marker Felt&amp;quot;;"&gt;Thank you for this good day.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Marker Felt&amp;quot;;"&gt;...I thought it was for a while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Marker Felt&amp;quot;;"&gt;I started to&amp;nbsp;fall in love with this man again, but i found a reason to stop. Everything was going well, but because of my stubbornness, i found myself in another failed attempt to get him to stimulate my mind.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Marker Felt&amp;quot;;"&gt;Is this happening for a reason?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Marker Felt&amp;quot;;"&gt;...Because you know I'm about to leave and I'll never see him again?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Marker Felt&amp;quot;;"&gt;248 days with him seemed liked summer by the beach...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Marker Felt&amp;quot;;"&gt;Warm, memorable, and worthwhile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2010/106/c/c/Love_on_the_Beach_by_KMstudioDOTcom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2010/106/c/c/Love_on_the_Beach_by_KMstudioDOTcom.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-3608236971066883403?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/3608236971066883403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=3608236971066883403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3608236971066883403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3608236971066883403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/02/stopped.html' title='Stopped.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-3486803399861371707</id><published>2011-02-13T23:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-13T23:03:14.182+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the day before Valentines day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;style&gt;@font-face {  font-family: "Cambria";}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }&lt;/style&gt;     &lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;“If you’re going to scold me because I had forgotten my wallet, as if I don’t feel bad enough already, then I would reckon you going back to your place, because you and this b*llsh*t about having an irresponsible girlfriend and everybody YOU know noticing it is something I don’t want to hear!”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tell me, what do you feel, if your significant other’s exs are related to his closes friends, with that, every single thing you do, they appear and try to report it to them, making your boyfriend finicky about every little imperfection you have, because he cares so much about what they think?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;It hurts having someone who tries to change you, scold you for every little thing with no equilibrium by usual compliments.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;It makes you think…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Is something wrong with me?”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-3486803399861371707?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/3486803399861371707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=3486803399861371707' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3486803399861371707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3486803399861371707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/02/day-before-valentines-day.html' title='the day before Valentines day.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-2475179810036546693</id><published>2011-02-11T22:34:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T22:41:55.703+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;style&gt;@font-face {  font-family: "Cambria";}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }&lt;/style&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;You know what? I was never given that option. I was never given a chance to go to college really, because my mother had no more money. I wanted to so bad. In my fantasy world I dreamed of being accepted in a well-credited school. Is there a slight possibility, that…dreams can turn into reality? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Or should I just…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i8BilKTntps/TVVKoJIh-qI/AAAAAAAAAHY/9X4xMoVPwLI/s1600/Untitled.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i8BilKTntps/TVVKoJIh-qI/AAAAAAAAAHY/9X4xMoVPwLI/s320/Untitled.jpg" width="262" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Force myself to wake up again?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-2475179810036546693?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/2475179810036546693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=2475179810036546693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2475179810036546693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2475179810036546693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/02/dreams.html' title='Dreams'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i8BilKTntps/TVVKoJIh-qI/AAAAAAAAAHY/9X4xMoVPwLI/s72-c/Untitled.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-4701894189921523218</id><published>2011-01-12T19:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T19:45:04.882+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saaaaaad.</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Parang ayaw ko na.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Halos araw-araw nalang ako umiiyak. Ayaw ko sabihin sakanya kasi nagmumukha na akong tanga.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;You know how music is important to me, right? My whole life, sold kasi I wanted to make him happy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I sold it to buy him a wallet that he needed. Not just any wallet, a wallet I thought he wanted. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;…Pero, he did not like it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now, I wish to have my ipod touch back. All the songs I sang when I was child, gone. I want it back. Pero he won’t let me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;The money I was supposed to use, all went to my books. It’s okay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Pero I feel…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Uncared for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;=’(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-4701894189921523218?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/4701894189921523218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=4701894189921523218' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4701894189921523218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4701894189921523218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2011/01/saaaaaad.html' title='Saaaaaad.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-5688556689829808248</id><published>2010-12-28T18:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T18:44:50.173+08:00</updated><title type='text'>*Ding. Ding* Philippine Islands, arriving.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;How much more can I write? Boredom keeps hitting me. I guess that’s one of the reasons too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;There was no wifi when I boarded the plane. Thus, I could not call everybody and tell them that I’ll be on my way.&amp;nbsp; I cannot wait to arrive at P.I.&amp;nbsp; First thing I’m going to ask them is, “Can we eat?” I’m starving. It affects the writing very much. My writing style has been well, plain.&amp;nbsp; I feel so dysfunctional without food. I really don’t care whether or not I’ll end up becoming fat. I’ll just work out instead. That works, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I told karl everything while I was at Xiamen. I felt secure, because I finally got the chance to talk to him. He apologized for not answering my calls, since he didn’t know it was me. Nevertheless he did not explain why he didn’t answer the calls that appeared to have my name on it. Shogonai.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Maybe that was one of the things my body was craving for. Him. Now I have experienced the feeling of not being able to talk to your beloved. You become irritated and everything turns to a blur.&amp;nbsp; I actually thought it was only a figure of speech.&amp;nbsp; Hah. I guess I turned out to be mistaken (again).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Will be arriving in an hour. Will let you know soon. Mac needs some rest. I did not get the chance for him to recharge. Aw. Stupid me forgot the adapter. Gah!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-5688556689829808248?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/5688556689829808248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=5688556689829808248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5688556689829808248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5688556689829808248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/12/ding-ding-philippine-islands-arriving.html' title='*Ding. Ding* Philippine Islands, arriving.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-3847916138763660090</id><published>2010-12-28T00:19:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-03T01:08:33.965+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Explanations</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Alrighty, let me explain to you what’s been happening. I know you’ll prolly get irritated because I know I’m such a confusing human being. But still! Just keeping track of beautiful memories. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Wingdings;"&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;First off, I know I haven’t written in a while! That’s what happens when school, a boyfriend, work, and friends come in the way. That’s what you call LIVING.&amp;nbsp; Now isn’t that something? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s tiring to document every single detail that happens due to not being able to experience the moment once it arrives. But, it’s all worth it. You think back and remember what happened. What would be nice is having a camcorder that recorded everything. That’s what I did when Karl had a few days left before he went underway (again). I bought an HD camcorder and recorded every little detail you wouldn't imagine. When I say recorded everything, I literally mean everything. Unsurprisingly, I gave it back and got a refund. Haha Bad habbit of me doing. I figured it wasn’t a necessity. I know it’s something that I really shouldn’t have done, although, it made me happy, during the time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Going back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I am now Fit For Full duty and am awaiting orders to go back to my squadron. It’s going to be hectic again and you’ll notice how depressed I will be once more.&amp;nbsp; I really just have to live through it. It’s life. Everybody goes through it, correct? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/TR4C_QW8t2I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/0lrQO_tge3g/s1600/facebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/TR4C_QW8t2I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/0lrQO_tge3g/s320/facebook.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;This picture has no significance whatsoever from the above topic. This photograph is only meant for sharing purposes.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-3847916138763660090?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/3847916138763660090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=3847916138763660090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3847916138763660090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3847916138763660090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/12/explanations.html' title='Explanations'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/TR4C_QW8t2I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/0lrQO_tge3g/s72-c/facebook.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-3337571806767816988</id><published>2010-12-28T00:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-01T00:18:09.279+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Airport Boredom</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;How much more can I write? My ipod’s running low and my iphone is no use since there really is no service!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Now that I come to think about it, I am going to go insane! I need my internet 24/7 and I’ve come to realize that that’s not going to happen. I guess I’m just going to have to drag my whole family. LOL&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;OMG! I can feel the hotness already.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;This is terrible. It was so cold in Japan. I miss it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I guess I’ll just suck up the bandwidth at home. LOL I hope they won’t mind. Sure they won’t! ^_~ ahaha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s really taking such a long-ass time to get there. REALLY.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Now that I’ve come to think of it, what the hell am I going to do at home?! I might just not go anywhere and just stay at home.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;That’s honestly terrible. I miss the cold. I really do. I need to buy clothes. LOL!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I guess this would be venting for me since B is not here to listen to every word I say. Haha I feel bad. Though, he’s such a good listener and such a good friend.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;He’s become my personal blog. And yet he really doesn’t complain. Or, is that an Aquarius thing?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m so sorry. I’ve become so obsessed with the zodiac signs! Every time there’s a new person I would meet I would ask them what their sign is so that I can act accordingly. Haha! And that! I conclude, is how you get friends! Unfortunately, you will have to plan your schedule because you would have so many friends trying to hang out with you!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Hey, what can I say? It’s my definition of fun. :P&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;It pays to be a social butterfly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/TR4CITz2tsI/AAAAAAAAAHM/_HvmReNX4mQ/s1600/Photo+on+2011-12-28+at+06.05+%25233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/TR4CITz2tsI/AAAAAAAAAHM/_HvmReNX4mQ/s320/Photo+on+2011-12-28+at+06.05+%25233.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-3337571806767816988?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/3337571806767816988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=3337571806767816988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3337571806767816988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3337571806767816988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/12/airport-boredom.html' title='Airport Boredom'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/TR4CITz2tsI/AAAAAAAAAHM/_HvmReNX4mQ/s72-c/Photo+on+2011-12-28+at+06.05+%25233.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-8144183491711397171</id><published>2010-12-28T00:09:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-03T01:13:22.406+08:00</updated><title type='text'>JP to Xiamen</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s really early in the morning and I absolutely could not get a hold of him.&amp;nbsp; Isn’t he supposed to be here when I need him the most? I do not get it, really.&amp;nbsp; It sucks what happened last night.&amp;nbsp; I had to get another room because I didn’t know how it’s going to work anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I know I made a mistake of doing that; maybe I made a mistake for saying yes, I dragged him along. It was no intention for me to do.&amp;nbsp; Since I figured I had learned my lesson. But I’ve come so close, just like the other experiences.&amp;nbsp; What is wrong with me?&amp;nbsp; What really is wrong with me? I don’t understand why it just has to happen like this. I really don’t. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I tried calling karl.&amp;nbsp; Unfortunately, he was no where to be found. I thank him though, for making me mad.&amp;nbsp; It gave me a very convincing excuse not to go through what chancellor had planned for me.&amp;nbsp; I very much got intimidated, since I worked with him.&amp;nbsp; But no, that is not what is about to happen to me.&amp;nbsp; I don't just let myself become vulnerable in that kind of situation again. I definitely will not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Last night I spent my time talking to B regarding the situation. Regarding the “let’s f*ck” situation. I stalled as much as I can. I could not say no because I did not understand what his intention was in the very beginning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“You send signals!”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“That’s what happens!!!”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“I know.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I just had no excuse to open my mouth. B was right. He literally was. I could not question him. I deserved scolding. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;A few hours passed and I was beginning to get agitated, angry and irritated. I couldn’t imagine how someone can feel all these emotions at once. Luckily, I don’t have the emotional range of a teaspoon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I closed my eyes as I tried to sleep. But the fact that there is a black naked dude laying right beside me made me just run out of the room.&amp;nbsp; I did. Right after I quietly pulled my stuff out. I know he was awake. I know it. But I found myself puzzled.&amp;nbsp; Why did he not do anything about it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Afable! Here’s what you do: you get the hell outta your room and get another one. Lock your doors and get your stuff out of that f*ckin room!”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I obeyed every word he said. How can he still care about me, after all what’s happened? It’s terrible, how a total stranger can always be there for you.&amp;nbsp; Well, not really a total stranger, but an “x” friend. How did I come about to call him in the first place? Karl, my boyfriend was not picking up his phone. Apparently he was at a party, and we had a fight earlier than that. I mean, isn’t he supposed to be here during sticky situations like this?!? I don’t understand. I always try to answer his phone calls even if I’m in the middle of something. &amp;nbsp;Pero him? What the hell happened???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-8144183491711397171?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/8144183491711397171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=8144183491711397171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8144183491711397171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8144183491711397171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/12/jp-to-xiamen.html' title='JP to Xiamen'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-5833672276312221924</id><published>2010-12-27T17:49:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-27T17:49:53.306+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Departing Yokosuka Base</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-5c5eed025b5e8dcc" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v11.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D5c5eed025b5e8dcc%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331467115%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1289820CF48CD05E17CF7BC6A69C8523BB42F3BF.86538E0CFBB4540E3F3AA53F63C6DF70AB8F5245%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5c5eed025b5e8dcc%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DxUeRlvAHWxG0PyfnWdv88UfVQp4&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v11.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D5c5eed025b5e8dcc%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331467115%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1289820CF48CD05E17CF7BC6A69C8523BB42F3BF.86538E0CFBB4540E3F3AA53F63C6DF70AB8F5245%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5c5eed025b5e8dcc%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DxUeRlvAHWxG0PyfnWdv88UfVQp4&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Location: 1393 Barracks&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-5833672276312221924?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/5833672276312221924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=5833672276312221924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5833672276312221924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5833672276312221924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/12/departing-yokosuka-base.html' title='Departing Yokosuka Base'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-324214718662797148</id><published>2010-10-21T12:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-21T12:45:46.425+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reminiscing.</title><content type='html'>Mood:&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=pessimistic.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/pessimistic.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Pessimistic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Location: CEC&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so nervous in seeing you again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All those times we shared under our  oak tree catching the sunset and waking up to see the sunrise was a thing of the past! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had already forgotten how you leaned close to smell my air while I held you near me with the wind blowing on our faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had already forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know what?...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing you once again will make me remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing you get off that ship with that smile on your face will help me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't need other reminders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You alone are the only person that can make me remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just you and me against the world, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what you whispered into my ear before you had left. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sweetheart, it's just YOU and ME against the world."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-324214718662797148?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/324214718662797148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=324214718662797148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/324214718662797148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/324214718662797148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/10/reminiscing.html' title='Reminiscing.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_pessimistic.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-7342532571241810850</id><published>2010-10-12T00:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-12T00:11:58.420+08:00</updated><title type='text'>10 minute break. 10 minute post.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs45/f/2009/067/f/d/Sunsetly_stores_by_willylorbo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=tired.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/tired.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Tired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:OfficeDocumentSettings&gt;   &lt;o:AllowPNG/&gt;  &lt;/o:OfficeDocumentSettings&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:WordDocument&gt;   &lt;w:View&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:Zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:TrackMoves/&gt;   &lt;w:TrackFormatting/&gt;   &lt;w:PunctuationKerning/&gt;   &lt;w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/&gt;   &lt;w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt; 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   &lt;m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/&gt;   &lt;/m:mathPr&gt;&lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"  DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"  LatentStyleCount="267"&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/&gt; 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  &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/&gt; 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  &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt; /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0in; mso-para-margin-right:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}&lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Flimsy little thing.&lt;/i&gt; I thought while I was at the Victoria’s secret aisle.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;There wasn’t much to choose, though the choices of bras they had were decent enough to buy.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;What do you expect?&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;They’re shipped from the States?&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;The Nex doesn’t offer a lot of variety, but it does offer no tax for purchases.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;This didn’t benefit me at all, since I still had not earned a lot of money to begin with.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I did, somewhat, but err, I had to use it on more important things…and so I thought.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Shopping really is a girl’s best friend.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Sometimes I would just go there all because it was a good gateway from my ubber tedious room.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I’ve spent myself locked up in there for about 6 hours studying.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Knowing me, I would at least try to.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;How can you not maximize what the internet has to offer?&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;There could be so many things you can do.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Not that studying I think is vital, but reading articles all over the internet would be acquiring knowledge just the same.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Shopping at the Nex would be nothing, compared to weighing what Japan has been known for-cutsey things. There are so many gorgeous clothes, pretty and sparkling jewelry, and pretty people to see once you walk out of those gates. But, sad to say, they may be pricey. Again, as it’s expected, you’re living in the part of the world where Tokyo Drift has been originated.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I held my thought while I was on my way back to my room.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I figured it would be more prudent to study, since final exams are coming up. &lt;i&gt;I just needed a break.&lt;/i&gt; Excusably thinking.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Mind over emotions. (lol). Hah. Another boring day, I figured. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs45/f/2009/067/f/d/Sunsetly_stores_by_willylorbo.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="286" src="http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs45/f/2009/067/f/d/Sunsetly_stores_by_willylorbo.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-7342532571241810850?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/7342532571241810850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=7342532571241810850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7342532571241810850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7342532571241810850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/10/10-minute-break-10-minute-post.html' title='10 minute break. 10 minute post.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_tired.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-8500983516421404792</id><published>2010-09-28T14:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T14:17:33.543+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time to go back.</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=stressed.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/stressed.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Stressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Location: &lt;i&gt;at home.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought every problem has a solution.&amp;nbsp; I guess not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor found nothing.&amp;nbsp; How does that happen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was then I realized it was time to go back.&amp;nbsp; Even if the pain is still there, there's not much I can do.&amp;nbsp; Pain is inevitable but suffering is optional. I knew this would be the end of everything, even for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back would mean focusing on the job at hand and through the best of my abilities, trying not to get hurt. It's possible, but it takes a lot of focus-which would mean dropping everything that I've build up here in this place; friends, music, and even him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now.&amp;nbsp; Let us face reality, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2010/093/6/6/660ca0115606a0f2ee9ff0b9033971c4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2010/093/6/6/660ca0115606a0f2ee9ff0b9033971c4.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-8500983516421404792?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/8500983516421404792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=8500983516421404792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8500983516421404792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8500983516421404792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/09/time-to-go-back.html' title='Time to go back.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_stressed.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-235290566722343866</id><published>2010-09-26T23:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-26T23:54:11.625+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Naturally, he'll get mad.</title><content type='html'>Mood:&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=tired.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/tired.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Location: The window&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:OfficeDocumentSettings&gt;   &lt;o:AllowPNG/&gt;  &lt;/o:OfficeDocumentSettings&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:WordDocument&gt;   &lt;w:View&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:Zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:TrackMoves/&gt;   &lt;w:TrackFormatting/&gt;   &lt;w:PunctuationKerning/&gt;   &lt;w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/&gt;   &lt;w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:DoNotPromoteQF/&gt;   &lt;w:LidThemeOther&gt;EN-US&lt;/w:LidThemeOther&gt;   &lt;w:LidThemeAsian&gt;X-NONE&lt;/w:LidThemeAsian&gt;   &lt;w:LidThemeComplexScript&gt;X-NONE&lt;/w:LidThemeComplexScript&gt;   &lt;w:Compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:BreakWrappedTables/&gt;    &lt;w:SnapToGridInCell/&gt;    &lt;w:WrapTextWithPunct/&gt;    &lt;w:UseAsianBreakRules/&gt;    &lt;w:DontGrowAutofit/&gt;    &lt;w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/&gt;    &lt;w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/&gt;    &lt;w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/&gt;    &lt;w:OverrideTableStyleHps/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;m:mathPr&gt;    &lt;m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/&gt;    &lt;m:brkBin m:val="before"/&gt;    &lt;m:brkBinSub m:val="&amp;#45;-"/&gt;    &lt;m:smallFrac m:val="off"/&gt;    &lt;m:dispDef/&gt;    &lt;m:lMargin m:val="0"/&gt;    &lt;m:rMargin m:val="0"/&gt;    &lt;m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/&gt;    &lt;m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/&gt;    &lt;m:intLim m:val="subSup"/&gt;    &lt;m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/&gt;   &lt;/m:mathPr&gt;&lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"  DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"  LatentStyleCount="267"&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"   UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/&gt; 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mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}&lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;It makes a lot of sense.&amp;nbsp; It's not like the course of the relationship has changed, but it's starting to progress.&amp;nbsp; Even if there's only a .7% of the progression, hey, I must say; it never ceased.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt like I've said so many, in the short 15 minutes that we talked on the phone.&amp;nbsp; The only time I was given a chance to release the monster that was struggling inside of me.&amp;nbsp; I felt so ashamed, thinking it was all immaturity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Something's always missing."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We both noticed, Something was always wrong with me.&amp;nbsp; Standards.&amp;nbsp; The basis of everything.&lt;br /&gt;We fight so much it’s not even funny.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;But our little arguments only lasts a day or two.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I learned not to make it last for more than 3 days.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;More than depressed was what I felt. Let me tell you, it felt terrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Better than the last couple of days our conversation went.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Go figure. It was the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;i&gt;Good night. I love you. Sweet dreams.”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;“huh. Goodnight. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Wingdings;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Ayan ka nanaman…Bakit everytime?!?...”&lt;/i&gt;He started saying things I need not mention.&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;i&gt;I love you. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Wingdings;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;”&lt;/i&gt; I just said.&lt;br /&gt;Sensing contentment over the phone, I bid him farewell and uttered,“&lt;i&gt;Go to bed, sweetheart. Muah.”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs37/f/2008/279/5/4/phone_call_by_sickbynature.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs37/f/2008/279/5/4/phone_call_by_sickbynature.jpg" width="210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-235290566722343866?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/235290566722343866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=235290566722343866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/235290566722343866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/235290566722343866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/09/naturally-hell-get-mad.html' title='Naturally, he&apos;ll get mad.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_tired.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-7783586615243779121</id><published>2010-09-01T12:14:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T16:13:06.992+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Encounter</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=nostalgic.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/nostalgic.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Nostalgic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Location:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/THXqq_xBVCI/AAAAAAAAAHA/VRn0PES62EI/s1600/manila.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/THXqq_xBVCI/AAAAAAAAAHA/VRn0PES62EI/s400/manila.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CAurora%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"&gt;&lt;/link&gt;&lt;link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CAurora%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx" rel="themeData"&gt;&lt;/link&gt;&lt;link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CAurora%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml" rel="colorSchemeMapping"&gt;&lt;/link&gt;&lt;style&gt;&lt;!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face	{font-family:"Cambria Math";	panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;	mso-font-charset:1;	mso-generic-font-family:roman;	mso-font-format:other;	mso-font-pitch:variable;	mso-font-signature:0 0 0 0 0 0;}@font-face	{font-family:Calibri;	panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;	mso-font-charset:0;	mso-generic-font-family:swiss;	mso-font-pitch:variable;	mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal	{mso-style-unhide:no;	mso-style-qformat:yes;	mso-style-parent:"";	margin-top:0in;	margin-right:0in;	margin-bottom:10.0pt;	margin-left:0in;	line-height:115%;	mso-pagination:widow-orphan;	font-size:11.0pt;	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;	mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault	{mso-style-type:export-only;	mso-default-props:yes;	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;	mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoPapDefault	{mso-style-type:export-only;	margin-bottom:10.0pt;	line-height:115%;}@page WordSection1	{size:8.5in 11.0in;	margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in;	mso-header-margin:.5in;	mso-footer-margin:.5in;	mso-paper-source:0;}div.WordSection1	{page:WordSection1;}--&gt;&lt;/style&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You were there. I had forgotten how it started or how it happened. But I knew that you were there.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;The path that glistened beneath the neon lights made it seem endless. Pretty enough, it was one of the usual things that both of us love with delight. You and I were attracted to beauty.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;There were a lot of cars driving by, all very swift with engines roaring.&amp;nbsp; The ocean at the other side of the road had brought equilibrium to me. Sounds of the waves brought peace to my mind while the busyness had reminded me that we weren’t so much far off from civilization.&amp;nbsp; I loved it.&amp;nbsp; It’s been so long since I walked through those streets. But mostly I loved how you were just there-right next to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I had forgotten why we were there and where we were going.&amp;nbsp; It didn’t matter so much-in my opinion. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Suddenly, you stopped.&amp;nbsp; You faced me and smiled.&amp;nbsp; Dazzled and confused, I felt the need to come closer-so I did.&amp;nbsp; Our faces were only inches away. A hand slid through my neck as you crushed your soft lips on mine.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;You pulled back, looking contented.&amp;nbsp; It was short, but sweet.&amp;nbsp; The last thing I remembered was waking up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Laying there, I smiled. I really smiled. Unfortunate, knowing that I wouldn’t be seeing you in a while, and as my smile, wasn't to last.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-7783586615243779121?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/7783586615243779121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=7783586615243779121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7783586615243779121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7783586615243779121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/09/sweet-encounter.html' title='Sweet Encounter'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_nostalgic.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-5432318597920433555</id><published>2010-08-26T12:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T12:14:15.307+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tokyo Disney...Sea</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=thirsty.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/thirsty.png" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt; Thirsty&lt;br /&gt;Location: Tokyo Disney Sea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time to compose to another one of those crazy adventures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Dude, pahinga muna taio.&amp;nbsp; Inaantok ako eh!"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minutes from now I find myself awake while my friend lies down before me at the flying carpet resto.&amp;nbsp; Hey, someone has to take care of the other, I figured.&amp;nbsp; Yep, sleeping in Tokyo Disney sea makes the experience.&amp;nbsp; Err, worth it.&amp;nbsp; Oh, did I mention that it's ridiculously red-hot outside?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"You guys aren't going to enjoy it.&amp;nbsp; Masyadong pambata."&lt;/i&gt; Rach had warned.&amp;nbsp; I beg to differ. I think it's &lt;i&gt;the bomb.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After waking my friend up, we had resumed plans.&amp;nbsp; The sun had burned our dry skins and the large landscape park had tired our feet, but it was alright. We very much enjoyed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs145.ash2/40611_424565212620_530402620_5211320_6366083_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs145.ash2/40611_424565212620_530402620_5211320_6366083_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs273.snc4/39967_424350057620_530402620_5204866_7458112_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs273.snc4/39967_424350057620_530402620_5204866_7458112_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs220.snc4/39319_424272242620_530402620_5202393_4393582_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs220.snc4/39319_424272242620_530402620_5202393_4393582_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs303.snc4/40473_424349987620_530402620_5204862_2729235_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs303.snc4/40473_424349987620_530402620_5204862_2729235_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-5432318597920433555?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/5432318597920433555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=5432318597920433555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5432318597920433555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5432318597920433555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/08/tokyo-disneysea.html' title='Tokyo Disney...Sea'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_thirsty.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-5972226696629147139</id><published>2010-07-29T21:44:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T12:34:28.090+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Last Bond</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=crushed.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/crushed.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Location: Sotetsu Train&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You think about it and you know you'll never see him again.&amp;nbsp; Quite subtle really.&amp;nbsp; It's because of the distance that's keeping you guys apart.&amp;nbsp; I'll never forget that angelic face.&amp;nbsp; Such an inception.&amp;nbsp; He gave me that feeling of utter bliss when I first met him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never come to understand why I felt so heartbroken when I left his smiling face at the train station.&amp;nbsp; I am positive the inner self has developed delusional feelings for him. Delusional, becuse I had no one to turn to at the time.&amp;nbsp; But then it remained constant, as if it were meant to be.&amp;nbsp; Was I really destined to meet him, just so I'd give love a chance again?&amp;nbsp; Or did love actually come, so that the heart can learn to love another without fear and regret?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-5972226696629147139?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/5972226696629147139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=5972226696629147139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5972226696629147139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5972226696629147139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/07/last-bond.html' title='The Last Bond'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_crushed.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-795498304886828348</id><published>2010-07-25T21:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T21:43:35.006+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Saw Him Again</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=lonely.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="lonely" border="0" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/lonely.png" /&gt;Lonely&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess this is what I get for hitting up with a man who's attached to the ship.&amp;nbsp; It sucks because I miss him more than I should.&amp;nbsp; I was so afraid of losing him, but right now is when it hurts the most.&amp;nbsp; I long for him too much it affects me in every aspect of my life.&amp;nbsp; I guess I should atleast hang out with my friends.&amp;nbsp; My guyfriends.&amp;nbsp; I mean, how many girlfriends do I have?&amp;nbsp; One, but she doesn't seem to fit it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the time I saw him again.&amp;nbsp; I didn't make a big deal of it, maybe because I didn't want to look stupid in front of him.&amp;nbsp; You start thinking about the last time you kissed, the last touch you had, and the last time he looked into your eyes. You wonder when you're going to see him again. Then reality hits you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-795498304886828348?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/795498304886828348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=795498304886828348' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/795498304886828348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/795498304886828348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/07/i-saw-him-again.html' title='I Saw Him Again'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_lonely.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-4058372106203327654</id><published>2010-07-14T17:54:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T12:32:14.749+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Self-inflicted</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=stressed.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/stressed.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Stressed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Location: TPU&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I ask myself, &lt;i&gt;Why am I doing this?&lt;/i&gt; I don't get it sometimes. Am I doing this because I know something's missing? Should I tell him? Or should I not and change? Ask yourself why you did it and move on mentally? I guess first impression's last. We we first met, he talked a lot, which bore the gemini in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He changed, because I asked him too. I didn't want to tell him, because I don't want to tell him everything. I want him to figure out by himself. It's not right. Just giving him the answers to every little problem we face. It's not right.&amp;nbsp; If he cared so much, then, he would have asked and tried to figure out what was wrong than wait for me to tell him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;That's true... but what did I do to make you fall in love with me?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about the email and admittedly realized that I myself didn't know. I'm scared to think that the only reason why I liked him was because we were on the ship. We both might have been desperate. Pero I don't know. It was just a thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm not tired of this relationship. I can't give up on something I know na kauumpisa palang.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. Kakaumpisa palang pero nasstress na ako. Hindi naman ata tama yun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It got a little complex when they found out that they found complications on my condition.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-4058372106203327654?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/4058372106203327654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=4058372106203327654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4058372106203327654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4058372106203327654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/07/self-inflicted.html' title='Self-inflicted'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_stressed.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-1554989161873687811</id><published>2010-07-12T16:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T16:24:55.948+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another One.</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=tired.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/tired.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tired.  &lt;br /&gt;Location: TPU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had just arrived from Atsugi. Worn out and tired, I lay on my bed to rest. A shirt, shorts and a pair of comfortable shoes to match, I ventured my way back to my old home. It was a nice day outside, the sun rarely shining but yet the wind blowing. It kept me at ease, feeling the breeze brush through my skin.&amp;nbsp; It just reminded of all the memories that I shared with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Karl, a Manila boy I met on the ship has very well captured my heart. We started talking when I first saw him. He came during work, while I was refilling condiments at the galley. You see this handsome-looking creature with a built bod standing in front of me.&amp;nbsp; He merely asks,"Hey, you're a Filipina, right? Meron ba kayong coffee-mate?" while he smiled at me.&amp;nbsp; Dumbfounded, I grabbed it under the coffee machines. I smiled, back and he turned away. &lt;i&gt;Oh. My. God.&lt;/i&gt; I thought to myself. I had to know this man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty glad we ended up being together for more than a month. It sucks, because every relationship I had never lasted that long. Luckily, both of us are willing to compromise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/TDrRAkLbgxI/AAAAAAAAAGw/NqTJCuaNJMM/s1600/photo%287%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/TDrRAkLbgxI/AAAAAAAAAGw/NqTJCuaNJMM/s320/photo%287%29.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A picture taken when they arrived back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Yep, another long-distant one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-1554989161873687811?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/1554989161873687811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=1554989161873687811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/1554989161873687811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/1554989161873687811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/07/another-one.html' title='Another One.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_tired.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-1793526442078036056</id><published>2010-05-17T11:26:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T11:38:33.530+08:00</updated><title type='text'>FutureMe</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;25SEP2008&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dear FutureMe,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He is alive today, but will be gone now that you're reading this. Remember that nothing ever dissappears, but changes form. He loves you today.  Even with the pain he is experiencing throughout his body, he is kind. No one has ever loved you so completely without condition! He says someday someone will love you as well as he has, remember?  Remember the love at this moment and be grateful for the experiences you were able to share. Remember all he has taught and given you. Use it well in his memory and know that he will always love you this way.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You've come far, but have farther to go yet.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Always remember grampa. He loves you with all his heart.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;PastMe&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-1793526442078036056?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/1793526442078036056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=1793526442078036056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/1793526442078036056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/1793526442078036056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/05/futureme.html' title='FutureMe'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-2449243186774212256</id><published>2010-05-13T14:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T14:44:01.079+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Realities.</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=content.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/content.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Content&lt;br /&gt;Written: 08MAY10&lt;br /&gt;Music: Sunny Rain - Yiruma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I need Martinez, Marcoux and Usita right now.  We need to get them on the boat right now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I immediately opened my eyes to the sound of the my name. AD2 Lloyd had been looking for us.  My room was right outside the duty office.  I could hear everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Startled and confused, I urgently got dressed and reported to AD2, dragging my 2 seabags and guitar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived on the other base 30 minutes later. A heap of anxiousness and stimulation filled the veins through my body. "This is it. The is that start of an adventure." I thought to myself when I saw the carrier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S-Za9O0EG9I/AAAAAAAAAGc/dC4G0WMhXtw/s1600/boat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 195px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S-Za9O0EG9I/AAAAAAAAAGc/dC4G0WMhXtw/s320/boat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469158805483035602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved running on the flight deck. It was even more exciting on the carrier.  A familiar feeling hit me while I was hauling my feet across the flight deck to relocate the boxes we had loaded on the boat. Hey, at least at the end of the day we had libo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured it would be best to go out with a whole bunch of my friends to the Amusement Park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs581.snc3/30657_394052527620_530402620_4510724_1012371_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 498px; height: 373px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs581.snc3/30657_394052527620_530402620_4510724_1012371_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so caught up in life I forgot how it was like to be a kid again. Thus, cherish the moment. Cherish your youth. You can't stay young forever. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-2449243186774212256?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/2449243186774212256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=2449243186774212256' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2449243186774212256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2449243186774212256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/05/realities.html' title='Realities.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_content.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-5131792637844257577</id><published>2010-05-02T17:29:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T18:11:33.969+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Narita Airport</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=hopeful.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/hopeful.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Hopeful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: The Remedy - Jason Mraz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs33/i/2008/289/f/e/mr__passenger_by_theSORROW1386.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 460px; height: 305px;" src="http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs33/i/2008/289/f/e/mr__passenger_by_theSORROW1386.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hence. My blogging shall continue.  Even as I will be going on cruise.  I will try my very best to continue what I've started.  I've always found a way, for I've kept this blog for more or less 3 years.  My mind is constantly running.  Sometimes I've had them to blame for my lack of sleep at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What's been going on:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;talked to my stock broker and closed the deal on some arrangements he made.&lt;br /&gt;-sent me all the way to the US to witness on a court-martial&lt;br /&gt;-while at the States, friends from Las Vegas visited&lt;br /&gt;-meanwhile, had a good reunion with my old friends in boot camp and had an interesting talk from the MA&lt;br /&gt;-all the more thought about the future.  Kids. A home. My Career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first week of February stocks began to rise on the charts again.  I was glad I was able to buy a few, for it continuously went sky-rocket.&lt;br /&gt;"You're doing well, Ora.  Just continue studying it and base your decisions from that.  It's good you started in an early age.  It's said to believe that the money you invest doubles in 8 years.  Let's do the math."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Age                              How much you invested/How much it will grow&lt;br /&gt;18                                                                  10,000&lt;br /&gt;26                                                                  20,000&lt;br /&gt;34                                                                  40,000&lt;br /&gt;42                                                                  80,000&lt;br /&gt;50                                                                160,000&lt;br /&gt;58                                                                320,000&lt;br /&gt;66                                                                640,000&lt;br /&gt;74                                                              1,280,000&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you were to start at the age 18-which you did- by 26 you'll have 20,000 dollars. That's the general idea.  The more money is invested, the more money is collected.  You just have to play it safe. Know when to buy and know when to sell stocks. The safest way to go is by investing on mutual funds. You just don't invest your money on one, but multiple. It's like investing your money on a book, that has a certain percent of different kinds of investments, whether it's walmart, google, or Chucky E. Cheese. You can never go wrong."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine that.  You'll be a millionaire in your 70s.  I stared at him in disbelief.  This was evenhandedly interesting.  "Thanks daddy!" I said as I kissed him on the cheek and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember that being one of my last conversations with my father. I guess I could call myself fortunate for having someone like him.  Someone so knowledgeable, understanding, and responsible.  I would imagine my future husband being like him.  Wait.  That's what I shall do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LN1 told us that there will be a lot of waiting while we were there.  I sighed as I saw the man right next to me prepared-he had brought his bible.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh Dang.  I should have brought mine."&lt;br /&gt;"You can borrow mine if you would like.  I have no problems in letting you borrow it." He sincerely said.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh.  Thank you."&lt;br /&gt;I scrutinized his face, trying to recall who he was.&lt;br /&gt;"What was your position in our division?"&lt;br /&gt;"I was the MA."&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yes, I remember, Jansky, correct? How have you been?"&lt;br /&gt;"I'm good actually.  I have a 2-month old baby girl, I can't wait to see her."&lt;br /&gt;"Ah.  Daddy's little girl, huh?  You're going to spoil her."&lt;br /&gt;"She's my one and only.  You know how it's like."&lt;br /&gt;I do.  It was a similar feeling I shared with my brother.  I spoiled him.  Bought him everything I could. He was my baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The topic suddenly went to marriage.&lt;br /&gt;"So how's it like having a wife and kids?"&lt;br /&gt;"It's different.  But of course nothing is easy on this earth.  I didn't even expect to marry her.  I was doing my own thing while she went to college.  But she had to make a decision when she found out she was pregnant.  We both knew we to be together.  We couldn't let the baby be while she went off to college. So that's how we got married."&lt;br /&gt;"So, she was young when you both got married?  How old was she, if I may ask?"&lt;br /&gt;"She was 18.  Now she's 22 and I'm 26.  We've been happily married for 4 years.  We've been through a lot but I love her.  She's the best thing that's ever happened to me.  She's happy as well.  If she wasn't then we wouldn't be together for this long."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That made me realize that there was hope.  It wasn't just me out there. There were a few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't have a happy ending, then the story isn't over yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S91OvE-s0EI/AAAAAAAAAGU/9bLjsIrOrMQ/s1600/Blogging.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 220px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S91OvE-s0EI/AAAAAAAAAGU/9bLjsIrOrMQ/s320/Blogging.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466612093395193922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(The AFTER photo.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-5131792637844257577?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/5131792637844257577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=5131792637844257577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5131792637844257577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5131792637844257577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/05/narita-airport.html' title='Narita Airport'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_hopeful.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-3947658970779128964</id><published>2010-04-26T17:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T19:36:50.665+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something To Blame On</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=pensive.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/pensive.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Pensive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: Wanna Be Yours - Lil Eddie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Navy's sending me TAD in the US for a court martial case.  Apparently, my chief's being accused for an unknown reason-well, unknown to me.  They requested me as a witness for the case.  There's one thing I don't understand though, why would he choose me, if I'm half-way around the world?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was very much exited about this.  I figured I would see him.  But after our long talk, we figured it was best this way.  Just because two people love each other, doesn't mean they should be together.  I mean, kung kami talaga, san man sa mundo magtatagpo kami, diba?  We both belong bin two different worlds.  Isn't that how we met in the first place?  Maybe God did that kasi he knew magkikita kami ulit.  Hindi ko alam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't seen his car outside my window in a week.  Surprisingly, I saw it today.  I scrutinized it while the driver was getting in.  "That's the last time I'll be seeing that car." I thought to myself.  And it sped away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to cry pero there's nothing left to cry on. How can I be so enthusiastic in one day and be miserable the next?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel as if this is going to go on for a long period of time. That's no problem. I don't move backwards, I move forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ano ba sa tingin mo saakin?  Nakikipaghook up sa mga babaeng una kong mamimeet?"&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. I didn't know him that well. I guess I hesitated.  Yung mga lalake kasi, un ang sinasabi sakin. Weeks after, may bago nang iba.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I spent my time thinking of you.  Nagaalala ako sa iyo.  Hindi ako makapagconcentrate sa trabaho chaka sa studies kasi hindi ka na tumatawag.  Hindi ko na alam kung ano nangyayari sa iyo dyan."&lt;br /&gt;You never call.  Ako nalang lagi. Pano malalaman kung anong nangyayari sa isa't isa if you don't meet me half-way? Ayaw mo nga na naggugulo ka, pero ako parati ko naiisip to.  Tama ka. Pati ako nahihirapan, noon pa. Pero okay lang. Okay lang saakin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Letting go of the the past seems beyond the bounds of possibility. Love is fragile we're not always the best care-takers. We forgive and we move forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S9bMLWXfHzI/AAAAAAAAAGM/_iy8yAljlLo/s1600/airplane.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S9bMLWXfHzI/AAAAAAAAAGM/_iy8yAljlLo/s320/airplane.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464779693215391538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-3947658970779128964?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/3947658970779128964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=3947658970779128964' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3947658970779128964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3947658970779128964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/04/something-to-blame-on.html' title='Something To Blame On'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_pensive.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-1824666510944664291</id><published>2010-04-23T13:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T19:15:26.221+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tokyo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S9bGPg-LO4I/AAAAAAAAAGE/yPUHxuDLw-A/s1600/tokyo.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=scared.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/scared.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Upset&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: Hypnotized - Akon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S9bGPg-LO4I/AAAAAAAAAGE/yPUHxuDLw-A/s1600/tokyo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S9bGPg-LO4I/AAAAAAAAAGE/yPUHxuDLw-A/s320/tokyo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464773167711730562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I perceived this.  Since it was going to rain outside, I saw it was going to be a groggy day.  I should be enjoying right now.  I should be out there with them.  I thought shopping was stress-relieving?  The only thing that works for me is cooking.  Problem is, I can't cook right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought of him today.  The situation seems difficult.  Did I lie to myself in the beginning?  Is this what I really wanted? Or was that the only reason why it clicked?  Because I told him what I wanted to hear?  I couldn't just do that. I can't lie to him.  Even more, I can't just lie to myself.  Why would I plan something I didn't mean to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-1824666510944664291?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/1824666510944664291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=1824666510944664291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/1824666510944664291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/1824666510944664291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/04/tokyo.html' title='Tokyo'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_scared.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-6148742309483083856</id><published>2010-04-19T14:21:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T14:36:04.841+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Never Knew</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=thankful.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/thankful.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Thankful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: I'll Be Yours - Fiji&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tired as I can barely keep my eyes open.  Exhausted as I couldn't lift a finger, I waited for the train ride back to Sagamino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was a Special Day for the both of us.  I had deliberately sent him a basket full of fruits since I wasn't there to care for him and I also sent him another present-which he has not recieved yet.  We talked for three hours on skype.  The conversations were sexy, funny, and smart.  WE talked about the future, the present, and the past.  I felt so attached to him.  It couldn't have gotten any better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quoting what articles have said, the only way for long-distance relations to work is by ending the separation.  I never thought I would ever find a man like him.  It doesn't make sense because it seems like the only option I have is to marry him.  At times I think I'm ready, but at other times, no.  A hint of doubt like that tells me otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I let this one pass? Should I marry him even though I'm young like this? Realistically, there's no other way for us to be together.  It was God's plan that we meet.  It was the Lord's plan that would fall in love.  It was Jesus's plan that we get separated half way around the world.  Now tell me, what is his next plan?  Will he help us go about this difficult situation? Will he find a way for us to meet again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope, fear, and prayers surround me today.  Giving faith to God is the only thing I can do.  I trust him with all my heart, and I know he will not disappoint me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs8/i/2005/329/e/4/pray____by_mehmeturgut.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 351px; height: 601px;" src="http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs8/i/2005/329/e/4/pray____by_mehmeturgut.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-6148742309483083856?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/6148742309483083856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=6148742309483083856' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/6148742309483083856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/6148742309483083856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/04/never-knew.html' title='Never Knew'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_thankful.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-8965767065480664579</id><published>2010-04-04T00:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T20:41:12.028+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day In The Life Of An Unparalleled Person</title><content type='html'>Music: Rude Boy - Rihanna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up multiple times until it burned.  I had a very odd dream.  My grandfather had committed suicide.  Odd, because he was already dead.  It didn't take long until I had forgotten about the subject.  After all, it's not like I could have done anything about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S7mTwOiISnI/AAAAAAAAAFk/1QxdrN2UZ_0/s1600/DSC00597.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S7mTwOiISnI/AAAAAAAAAFk/1QxdrN2UZ_0/s320/DSC00597.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456554880280316530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S7mSxR_zerI/AAAAAAAAAFc/uUpBubT3znA/s1600/DSC00598.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My twin had arrived today.  We desperately needed each other.  The months we spent apart had given us a story to talk about.  It's amazing how every cell in my body seemed to know that she's here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs489.ash1/26737_380059790431_603975431_4021128_2850468_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 429px; height: 645px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs489.ash1/26737_380059790431_603975431_4021128_2850468_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long walks didn't bother me at all.  I love walking, as much as I loved running.  I stared into the sky with equanimity as they deliberately lead us to the train station.  I had arranged this little trip of ours.  Knowing Ginny, locking her up on base would lead to a mild case of culture anxiety.  She didn't like that, neither did we.  I, myself haven't explored beyond the frontier.  So I figured we should go out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S7mVmDrtY9I/AAAAAAAAAF0/ihhILVA_uVI/s1600/DSC00604.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S7mVmDrtY9I/AAAAAAAAAF0/ihhILVA_uVI/s320/DSC00604.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456556904592270290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S7mXkT7LpmI/AAAAAAAAAF8/tkZ6tEu-zk0/s1600/DSC00610.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S7mXkT7LpmI/AAAAAAAAAF8/tkZ6tEu-zk0/s320/DSC00610.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456559073615652450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S7mVA9IkKII/AAAAAAAAAFs/2VOjwcyP47M/s1600/DSC00601.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent my time daydreaming at the train.  Not that I do that enough as it is in my life.  A few extra thoughts here and there would not cause me harm...and so I thought.  No wonder people keep miss-guessing my age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ginny and I talked until there was no tomorrow.  I see so much of myself in her.  As friends, she's the only person I will ever need.  Even on our way back, words seemed unlikely to lose.  We ate at her pad while the chatter continued.  Soon, I had to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking to the other side of the base was long, cold, and breathtaking.  The cherry blossoms were as beautiful as they were even at night.  The wind blew through my skin, stopping my breath and my heart.  The sounds of the leaves skipping across the road gave peace to my mind.  As I reached for the door, I imagined how it would be like living in a beach house with this kind of peaceful and collected environment.  I shrugged and decided it was too cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3349/3423691557_b5703ceafc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 334px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3349/3423691557_b5703ceafc.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called him for the fourth time.  I picked up the phone and thought about it, but I sighed and decided it had no beneficial use.  I closed my eyes and prayed for him.  I would be a witness to him.  I should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before long, I fell asleep.&lt;br /&gt;Unexpectedly, I had a dream of him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-8965767065480664579?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/8965767065480664579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=8965767065480664579' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8965767065480664579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8965767065480664579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/04/day-in-life-of-unparalleled-person.html' title='A Day In The Life Of An Unparalleled Person'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S7mTwOiISnI/AAAAAAAAAFk/1QxdrN2UZ_0/s72-c/DSC00597.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-7442780121909205787</id><published>2010-03-28T14:32:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T05:59:42.520+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Once Again.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i44.tinypic.com/orqnhf.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=stressed.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/stressed.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Stressed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: Beloved - Yiruma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i44.tinypic.com/orqnhf.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking is the only thing I'm able to do now.  I'm now on an airplane ride on my way to Japan.  The goodbyes were sad, but Jay helped me reroute back to happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John is a man I fell in love with, after my little &lt;a href="http://orascarnival.blogspot.com/2010/03/journey.html"&gt;Journey&lt;/a&gt;.  Twenty-five years young, he's been in the navy for about a couple of years.  I never did start looking for somebody.  I guess the minute you stop looking is the same time love exposes itself.  His presence makes my heart stop and gives me the feeling of utter bliss.  I've had not known him for a long while but it didn't take a long time to have that connection.  Lord God, why does this have to happen to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our talks are never tedious.  I fear the only reason why our conversations now are contenting is because we're still in the process of knowing each other.  I couldn't help scrutinizing him.  I adore his imperfections.  Every little thing he did I fell for.  I never understood his ways. That being said is the ultimate reason why I fell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img="http: com="" jpg=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/img="http:&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-7442780121909205787?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/7442780121909205787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=7442780121909205787' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7442780121909205787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7442780121909205787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/03/once-again.html' title='Once Again.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_stressed.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-5226388518358325588</id><published>2010-03-12T05:04:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T06:38:31.937+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Journey</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=recumbent.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/recumbent.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Tired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: N/A&lt;br /&gt;Location: In Class&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More guys, more experiences.  More dates, more is conceived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hanging out with a bunch of guys that like you can lead to experience.&lt;br /&gt;(All names have been changed for security purposes)&lt;br /&gt;Guy #1:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Name's Travis.  Caucasian.  Slightly overweight.  Medium-sized lips (great for kissing). Blunt.  Green/Hazel eyes.  5'8".  Like the truth.  Great friend.  You do him a favor and he'll return it 50% better.  Self-achiever.  Qualified for numerous guns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Good: &lt;/span&gt;loves his personality.  Be a very good boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Bad: &lt;/span&gt;Physically unattractive.  He's not ugly or anything.  Just unattractive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy#2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Name's Ken.  Utterly thin.  Smiles too much.  Shy person at first.  When you start to get to know him, he starts talking negatively.  Smells good.  Little experience in dating.  Usually the follower, not the man.  Gives you peace to think, since he doesn't fill every silence with chatter.  Dislike naggers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Good: &lt;/span&gt;Nice.  Just scary when you get to know him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Bad: &lt;/span&gt;Hidden Devil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy #3:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Samuel.&lt;br /&gt;Amazingly smart.  Looks good with glasses.  Caucasian.  Has pointy features.  Excessively tall.  Guy-hairy.  Smells good at certain times, at other times, no.  Physical therapist.  Sweet.  Natural Born Leader.  Blunt.  Self-revealing nerd.  Brown eyes.  Brown hair.  Up for improvement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Good: &lt;/span&gt;Good person. Follows the rules.  Able to help you with everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Bad: &lt;/span&gt;Odor control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy #4:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Black Henry.  22 years young.  Acts like he's 20.  Colorful.  I mean African-American but likes to dress all colorful.  Hasn't been out there yet.  Courteous.  Follows what a girl wants.  Asks me for girl advice.  Extremely tall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Good:  &lt;/span&gt;Knows what he wants.  Follower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Bad: &lt;/span&gt;Unexperienced.  Knows the basics of being a boyfriend.  Slept with a girl he just met 3 days ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of these guys are working out for me.  But then again nobody's perfect.  You can't always find what you want.  But I say you can make the most out of every situation.  It wasn't just yesterday that Samuel tried to kiss me.  I had a date with Ken an hour before that happened.  that sounds messed up, right?  Hey, I'm single.  I never planned that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-5226388518358325588?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/5226388518358325588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=5226388518358325588' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5226388518358325588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5226388518358325588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/03/journey.html' title='Journey'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_recumbent.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-8673092852598202547</id><published>2010-03-10T21:19:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T21:29:38.857+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinking Leading to Insanity</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Written:&lt;/strong&gt; Feb 26&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Current Location: &lt;/strong&gt;School&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Time: &lt;/strong&gt;0844&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Stop thinking of stuff you shouldn't think of yet.  Total, Wala namang due date yan eh."&lt;/em&gt; - mom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Stop thinking."&lt;br /&gt;That's what he always says.&lt;br /&gt;"what do you want?  It's not that hard to put to words.  What do you want?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Samual and I argued last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mom:&lt;/strong&gt;  Grace...  You can't stay friends with a guy for long.  It always leads to something.  why can't you just be yourself and hang out with girls?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt;  yes, mom.  Pero I only have one female friend.  her name is Li.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mom:&lt;/strong&gt; See?  There's not much you can do.  Ito naman si riley, he's 27.  He's ready to get settled and have a wife.  I know he's nice, pero that can lead to something too.  Grace... 18 ka lang.  you're still young.  Ang dami mo pang gustong gawin.  Be sure he knows that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt;  How, mom?  How???  I always can't find the words for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mom:&lt;/strong&gt;  Tell him to stop giving you stuff.  alam mo naman, Grace, walang libre dito sa mundo.  Lahat may kapalit Katulad ng binibigay niya sa iyo.  Grace...  Sa tingin ng lalaki mabibili nila ang babae.  Ganun ang tingin nila saatin.  Pero sa tingin mo ba, pagbinigyan mo ng mahal mo ng isang sing-sing na worth 50 dollars, diba you would expect something in return?  Ang hirap hindi magexpect, Grace.  Ang hirap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt;  Gets ko na.  Kaya pala.  Alam ko na un noon pa, pero mas lalo ko nang naiintindihan pagnaexperience ko.  Thanks mum.  Anong gagawin ko pagwala ka na?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mum:&lt;/strong&gt;  hay nako, Grace.  Wag ka na muna magisip.  Tama na ito for the night.  Matulog ka na.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt;  Goodnight, Mummy.  Salamat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-8673092852598202547?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/8673092852598202547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=8673092852598202547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8673092852598202547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8673092852598202547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/03/thinking-leading-to-insanity.html' title='Thinking Leading to Insanity'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-4782001573280385666</id><published>2010-03-10T21:13:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T21:19:44.162+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life and Liberty</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Written: Feb 4, 2010&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Current Location: Class&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Time: &lt;/strong&gt;2222&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why won't it reveal itself when i try to remember all the things that happened to us?  It just randomly sticks it's head out when it wants to through the day.  It's such an inconvenience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother once said, "Improve on yourself.  So when he comes he wouldn't have a reason to let you go." that statement doesn't really count when you're lonely. Now, it's fun being single.  No one to think about.  No worries.  no stress.  But when you get lonely, that's when it hits us the most.  You wouldn't just choose any guy who would come along.  He would have to meet your standards.  But I plead guilty of doing that all for the sake of experience.  I know for a fact that that's the best way to understand how things function and operates in life, but you don't have to go through it to learn it.  You can just ask the old and the wise and learn from them-that way pain and suffering will be optional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a quote contradiction to that account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In order for you to be old and wise, you must first be young and stupid."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-4782001573280385666?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/4782001573280385666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=4782001573280385666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4782001573280385666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4782001573280385666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/03/life-and-liberty.html' title='Life and Liberty'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-6618501082749921311</id><published>2010-02-12T01:09:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T01:20:29.608+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Coffee Thoughts</title><content type='html'>Mood:&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=mellow.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/mellow.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Mellow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Music:&lt;/span&gt; Put Your Records On - Corrine Bailey Rae&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Ring. Ring*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up with the sound of the alarm.  Again, time for school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TJ went up to my room to chat which seemed like hours last night.  Because of it, I didn't have that much sleep.  It's all right.  He was a guy I just met.  I was attached to his personality, but sadly, little on his physical features.  Maybe it as something to do with his sign.  I adapted so much on how to deal with this kind of guys.  Or maybe, it's just me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy right next to me in class is the same.  I find it a bit odd. Maybe it's because I changed overtime.  Your past makes you who you are.  But all of this happening in a minimum of two months creates a great leap in the learning experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coffee mug in hand, I poured muddy water in.  I let my lips get in contact with the rim and tipped it.  I felt the liquid running down my tube and I swear I felt it circulating my veins.  I guess this is how it feels to be in a coffee buzz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-6618501082749921311?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/6618501082749921311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=6618501082749921311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/6618501082749921311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/6618501082749921311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/02/coffee-thoughts.html' title='Coffee Thoughts'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_mellow.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-7722729311279667876</id><published>2010-01-31T12:48:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T12:53:44.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Problem, A New Remedy</title><content type='html'>Mood:&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=hungry.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/hungry.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Hungry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really need to get all wordy and shit on my blog posts, do I?  Needless to say, it's my blog.  I can put the heck that I want to put on it.  No one should bother me about it. No one should judge me on what I write.  It's my fucking blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about it, and thought about it.  Hey, maybe I am in love with my best friend.  I always want what I can't have.  That's how I like to put things. I'll always think that I can't have them, so that I can still keep them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been meeting a lot of dudes lately.  But sadly, I treat them more of like a one night stand, minus the sex.  I don't understand why I ended up this way.  I do recall my roommate telling me,"When you find someone, you learn from them and adapt to a lifestyle of having someone in your life.  When you guys break up, you try to put back the pieces of what's left with you and try to start living a life by yourself-carrying what you've learned."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that's why I turned out this way.  Maybe that's why I'm so bitter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-7722729311279667876?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/7722729311279667876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=7722729311279667876' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7722729311279667876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7722729311279667876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/01/new-problem-new-remedy.html' title='A New Problem, A New Remedy'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_hungry.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-2390566097598996612</id><published>2010-01-03T12:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T12:48:31.838+08:00</updated><title type='text'>One Last Goodbye</title><content type='html'>Mood:&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=numb.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/numb.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Numb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreams.  They mean so much.  Never did I think this day would come.  I thank him for coming in my life and making me realize that I needed to grow.  I just wonder why it's been taking me this long to ponder on the things that took place.  Why am I spending my time wondering why it didn't work out?  Why do I care so much?  I really don't care that he's replaced me.  I just keep caring on why things happened the way it did.  Maybe God was helping me get ready for the next one to come.  Maybe he knew I would be able to take it.  But the events that took place almost jeopardized my ability to learn my job.  It's okay I guess.  It'll have to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-2390566097598996612?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/2390566097598996612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=2390566097598996612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2390566097598996612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2390566097598996612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2010/01/one-last-goodbye.html' title='One Last Goodbye'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_numb.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-2766073317778647096</id><published>2009-12-28T12:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T12:44:43.061+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Past.</title><content type='html'>Mood:&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=recumbent.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/recumbent.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You do know he's all I ever think about, right?  Wrong.  It's not right.  I don't know how he does it. Date older women.  I guess it's something he really wants.  I don't know.  I guess I don't like lov him no more, but everything he did made me have higher standards for guys.  It's either everything in this world is confusing, or I over-analyze things.  I definitely need another guy to think about.  Maybe God brought this to me to be a lesson, so I'll be ready for the right one.  Thinking about it is not really making me want to have another boyfriend right now.  All I want to do is have fun, but finish my studies.  Then possibly cross-rate, then go from there.  Makes sense, right? 20 years from now it will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-2766073317778647096?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/2766073317778647096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=2766073317778647096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2766073317778647096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2766073317778647096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/12/past.html' title='The Past.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_recumbent.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-5325330920502461123</id><published>2009-12-23T12:34:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T12:39:16.867+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Predictions</title><content type='html'>Mood:&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=tired.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/tired.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Tired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny how your mind seems to know what will happen.  I woke up this morning unexcited to come home.  Knowing Texas, I knew it was not anything like Pensacola, Manila, or Tokyo.  I was anxious to see my family, but that was all. I missed my puppies, and that was the only reason why I came home.  My puppies, my family, and for God.  Hopefully things will work out better.  Being in the Navy makes us all realize how tedious home us.  Now I get why they don't really go home.  Home is so slow.  Time is so slow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-5325330920502461123?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/5325330920502461123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=5325330920502461123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5325330920502461123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5325330920502461123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/12/predictions.html' title='Predictions'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_tired.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-5233367388211920483</id><published>2009-10-29T02:47:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T21:40:43.030+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Enough</title><content type='html'>Mood:&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=stressed.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/stressed.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Stressed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: No Air (Piano Version) - Boyce Avenue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's so much to say since I haven't been updating a long while. I don't know.  I guess whenever I get on and start typing my blog, everything just goes blank. I don't know where to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life in the navy, is well, fun - in a way.  There's always so much to do and you're always busy.  Even though you've been b*llshitting around.  Forgive my language, it's hard not getting influenced, and at the same time, that very words fits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wonder if I'm beginning to grow, or just beginning to be perverted.  You start thinking about these stuff and start wondering how the hell you started and how the hell it's going to work.  But oh well, that's how things are.  You start understanding them and to you, it would not be new. It would be normal - normal as breathing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trashcans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trashcans always get full. Depending on the size of the trashcan, it still gets full.  I get that's how my system works.  My patience was never my specialty, but I've always considered it as long.  I guess I try to work with things until I can't no longer.  Do you think that would be a good thing? But when I've had enough, enough IS enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I was not made to live around people.  Maybe I was not meant to live on this earth to be with people but to keep to myself.  I've always done this, and well, that's how I gained respect.  It's always different for different people. Self preference. But still, it still applies to everyone - or at least, most people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I make a small problem be utterly big?  Everything single problem piles up leading to one big snow ball. This I learned from someone very special.  Which comes to find - he was right. Elderly people really want to help you prevent mistakes they've already made.  But it's sad seeing them aggravated all the time due to incomplete ventilation.  Hey, that's how they want it, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-5233367388211920483?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/5233367388211920483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=5233367388211920483' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5233367388211920483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5233367388211920483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/10/mood-music-no-air-piano-version-boyce.html' title='Enough'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_stressed.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-2939961077904294278</id><published>2009-10-17T02:25:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T02:49:26.367+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ice Cream.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mood:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=sleepy.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/sleepy.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sleepy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Written&lt;/span&gt;: 13OCT09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked step by step closer to the podium, the more I started to dread it.  This is such a boring watch. I figured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stood there for a minute, realizing that 4 and a half hours of doing nothing will make me fall asleep. Thus, walking around might ease it up a little bit.  At times I would jump, just to keep myself awake.  But then again I've been making myself look like an idiot in front of the cameras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few minutes, I managed to keep myself awake. How?  By thinking about the stuff that happened last Sunday.  It was fairly interesting, since it was new to me.  I loved how he carressed my arm and played with my hair.  I could imagine it being a dream, I guess I would be afraid if he were to disappear in a sudden poof of smoke and I would wake up.  But what really kept me awake was imagining the n*ices he made.  Whenever I thought about it, I would burst out laughing.  Hey, it's a good way to keep myself awake, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was haivng those kinds of sessions, AC1 Lancelin logged aboard.  I felt embarrassed, and at the same time thankful for being a mental mute.  I believe he started to wonder I was turning red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He walked at a normal pace towards me.&lt;br /&gt;"Good Morning, Petty Officer."&lt;br /&gt;"Good Morning." said he.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told me what was supposed to be written, walked off as I did my part. Hang on, what was he eating?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. Ice Cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dang he made me hungry.  I haven't eaten yet. :(  But oh well I though it was cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being in the state that I was, hungry, tired, sleepy and pushed, drawing things in my mind was the only way I lived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Practice Makes Perfect."&lt;br /&gt;Another thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hell yea.  Ice Cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made sense to me.  We should try ice cream.  The feeling would be intense.  Strawberry-flavored ice cream trickling down your spine.  As it trickled, you would feel this cold sensation which would lead to you heightening your senses.  I like it messy.  I guess after that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shower. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://th09.deviantart.net/fs11/300W/i/2006/183/d/5/death_by_ice_cream_by_poop_art.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 221px;" src="http://th09.deviantart.net/fs11/300W/i/2006/183/d/5/death_by_ice_cream_by_poop_art.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-2939961077904294278?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/2939961077904294278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=2939961077904294278' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2939961077904294278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2939961077904294278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/10/ice-cream.html' title='Ice Cream.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_sleepy.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-621391085134980470</id><published>2009-10-01T08:27:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T09:19:27.731+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trials</title><content type='html'>Mood:&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=grateful.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/grateful.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Grateful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.maritimequest.com/warship_directory/us_navy_pages/destroyers/photos/forrest_sherman_ddg_98/05_forrest_sherman_ddg_98.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 530px; height: 352px;" src="http://www.maritimequest.com/warship_directory/us_navy_pages/destroyers/photos/forrest_sherman_ddg_98/05_forrest_sherman_ddg_98.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(new beginnings)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You don't get a lot of chances of starting a new life. This is it.  This is one of them." - Navy PFM instructor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's sad I forgot her name.  I think I intentionally did that due to her actions toward.  Well I get it, it was not my fault. But I just don't get why she had to stare at me and stop the whole class.  It was  not my fault I blinked and made it look like I was falling asleep.  It made no sense to me why I had to take this class. It all came to me when I realized we were getting paid to keep awake, also, we were getting college credits for this.  Shoot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy to say that this may be my new home for a couple of months. I'm not entirely sure how long though.  Living here for a week made me feel better. Definitely a lot better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never did I feel lonely here. Even though I've been doing everything by myself. It kept me happy inside. Imagine 2 months of having somebody with you.  Every single damn time you use the Head (bathroom) you have someone with you.  The only thing that grants you privacy is the voice inside your head.  Your own voice.  Even as it's present, the only thing you'll be thinking about is your family - which only makes you feel worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked all the way to the gym with my PT (Physical Training) gear.  My strap where my cellphone shook while I walked a mile to the gym. A whole lot of marines were there. I felt intimidated by their built bodies.  They really were working out.  The marines have the hardest boot camp.  The navy is well, not so bad. I ran 2 miles then started heading back to the barracks to take a shower. I had duty you see. I could not be late for muster (attendance).  The navy needs to know where you're at at all times. That's why we muster a minimum of twice a day. It sucks I know.  But it's the navy.  We get paid to b*llsh*t.  Just kidding. We're just getting ready for the fleet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked all the way to the galley (cafeteria) all by myself. It was a long, hot walk, but I enjoyed it. I ate and called my mother. At least the food here is a lot better than boot camp. Affirmatively a lot better. To top it off, it's free too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked back, I appreciated the scenery.  The moon was breath-taking.  It was reflected by the sea.  The lights inside the buildings too were well beautiful.  It matched perfectly with its surroundings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another start is what I call it.  Today, "A" school.  Tomorrow,  The fleet. I wonder when my next adventure shall take place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More stories next time. I shall go to muster then reminisce on the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fc06.deviantart.com/fs42/f/2009/101/7/e/7eb10d51767648191348310e1dde9495.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 506px; height: 406px;" src="http://fc06.deviantart.com/fs42/f/2009/101/7/e/7eb10d51767648191348310e1dde9495.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-621391085134980470?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/621391085134980470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=621391085134980470' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/621391085134980470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/621391085134980470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/10/trials.html' title='Trials'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_grateful.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-995841703097641330</id><published>2009-09-21T06:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T07:01:34.873+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Get Back</title><content type='html'>Mood: In a rush&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liberty weekend started last Friday since that was our graduation day.  I'm happy to say that I'm back.  I'll try to make up for all the days I haven't been updating.  As you guys know, I haven't been on the computer for approximately 2 months. It's been so long okay, but I learned a whole bunch of stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's sad to say that I won't have a whole lot of time to blog anymore, since I'll be busy with everything.  I won't have to worry about money and the like anymore, since being in the Navy already is my Job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These 2 months that passed went by pretty quick.  Don't you think? &lt;br /&gt;You know what? The moment I came in bootcamp the RDCs and stuff started yelling at us.  I came prepared, but it still scared the heck out of me.  It was such a shock.  You would feel that you're all alone and everything but yet I got through it.  I barely got any sleep the first night.  They made us sleep in a classroom on the desk for 2 hours then we had to go about the routine.  I don't remember what happened after that. It's been what?  2 months.  But oh well.  Haha the first 4 weeks wasn't good at all.  We got punished all the time but then again we learned.  We became a lot stronger too. hehe  The remaining weeks came by quick.  The gas chamber, live fire, firefighting, and battlestations was so totally fun. I can't go into detail what we did due to the contract I signed. lol But all I can say that it was totally fun and I learned a whole bunch of stuff from it.  It surely is a memory of a lifetime.  I guess I'll explain next time when I have time.  I'm at the Navy Exchange right now so I only have a few minutes.  I only have 3 days remaining here.  Tomorrow, we have blood drive and the next day I think we'll be doing our pride run.  The pride run is where we'll be running around the whole base. I'm not quite sure how many miles is that but it sounds totally fun. After that, I'll be leaving for "A" school which is going to be in Pensacola, Florida.  Yeay Disney World! lol Once I get there my mom will send my cellphone. I can't wait!  Well that's all for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will update soon! miss you guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AR Martinez, A.G.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-995841703097641330?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/995841703097641330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=995841703097641330' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/995841703097641330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/995841703097641330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/09/get-back.html' title='Get Back'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-7399503131437623715</id><published>2009-07-25T07:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T07:22:00.548+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finale, then hiatus.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Written: July 19, '09 18:49 hours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=anxious.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/anxious.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Anxious&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, I would like to show you guys my creations :) lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs151.snc1/5608_109350157620_530402620_2628914_1493766_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 361px; height: 604px;" src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs151.snc1/5608_109350157620_530402620_2628914_1493766_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My skin is the only colored part. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs131.snc1/5608_109363097620_530402620_2629101_2252229_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 420px; height: 604px;" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs131.snc1/5608_109363097620_530402620_2629101_2252229_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I should have taken out the person behind, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs151.snc1/5608_109644342620_530402620_2633970_1733417_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 435px; height: 604px;" src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs151.snc1/5608_109644342620_530402620_2633970_1733417_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One of my personal favorites. Even though it looks pretty well girly. hehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs131.snc1/5608_109450442620_530402620_2630122_7055450_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 523px; height: 478px;" src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs131.snc1/5608_109450442620_530402620_2630122_7055450_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See my tatoo? haha! :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs151.snc1/5608_110053622620_530402620_2641769_2048291_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 604px; height: 459px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs151.snc1/5608_110053622620_530402620_2641769_2048291_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This here's Migz's album cover :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs131.snc1/5608_110061347620_530402620_2641958_4250098_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 342px; height: 386px;" src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs131.snc1/5608_110061347620_530402620_2641958_4250098_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put a little bit of face makeup on her. lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Comments are always welcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back. I guess this is my final post before heading out to boot camp.  For those of you who don't know, I joined the Armed Forces, specifically, the Navy.  A whole lot of people have been carelessly asking me why I joined. Here are some FAQs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You joined the Navy? Why?"&lt;br /&gt;-Well, I get to go to college for free, get paid the moment I go to boot camp, have medical and dental benefits, get to travel, and meet awesome people. It's not really as bad as you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"So when are you leaving for boot camp?"&lt;br /&gt;-I have to report on July 20 and they're going to send me off via plane on July 21 in Chicago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Will I get to talk to you in boot camp?"&lt;br /&gt;-No, love. I don't have access to anything while in boot camp. Will be back in about 2 months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What kinds of people do you meet in the Navy?"&lt;br /&gt;-Well, there's a whole lot of variety. There's people who don't have anything to do in their lives and there's people who want to succeed and learn something new. (This is beginning to sound like an advertisement).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Will you write to me?"&lt;br /&gt;-Yes. If you are in the US and if you have given me your address. :)&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sounds horrible but it'll be worth it.&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't help but think. Last night, as I lie awake in my bed, I kept thinking.  I'll be leaving, going to resume my life away from people I love. I find it scary. The thing ate &lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);" href="http://natscoconut.multiply.com/"&gt;Nathalie&lt;/a&gt; told me kept echoing in my brain, as if it were a song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There's a first time for everything."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As this lingered in my mind I wondered if I'll be one of those regular teens my recruiter has been talking about-whining due to overwhelming shock or to notice the absence of the family.  Hopefully it should not bother me, not unless the RDC(instructions) should scold me for something I should not have done thus leading me to run to somebody for some encouragement or guidance. One thing I remember what &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/profile.php?id=768229433&amp;amp;ref=ts"&gt;Dee&lt;/a&gt; used to say...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;(Dee practicing for the Food Fest)&lt;br /&gt;"Suck it up, B*tch!"&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That always kept me cracking the whole day thanks to &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/profile.php?id=1071660021&amp;amp;v=info&amp;amp;viewas=530402620&amp;amp;ref=ts"&gt;Sen&lt;/a&gt;. Good Lord I'll miss those two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss the absence of my friends and family of course, but as always I'll always manage to get over it surely.  I'll try to keep you guys updated by writing to my mom and deliberately asking her to post my writings. But then again, she might not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I will probably be on the plane-on my way to Chicago with all those people or killing myself by running around the base with nothing less but lack of sleep. I will most definitely miss posting. But then again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just suck it up!&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/4168714419683840310-7399503131437623715?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/7399503131437623715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=7399503131437623715' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7399503131437623715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7399503131437623715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/07/finale-then-hiatus.html' title='Finale, then hiatus.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_anxious.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-794401534082887233</id><published>2009-07-19T10:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T10:00:00.337+08:00</updated><title type='text'>One Song, One Tune.</title><content type='html'>Mood:&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=accomplished.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/accomplished.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Accomplished&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rain started pouring down on my window about 0300 hours today. Surprisingly, I took out my song notebook and wrote a song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://th01.deviantart.net/fs38/300W/i/2008/337/e/9/Edward_and_Bella_by_Hanachan732.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 184px; height: 198px;" src="http://th01.deviantart.net/fs38/300W/i/2008/337/e/9/Edward_and_Bella_by_Hanachan732.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Make Me Feel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Hold me close&lt;br /&gt;Hold me tight&lt;br /&gt;As the raindrops come falling through the night.&lt;br /&gt;Look at me&lt;br /&gt;In the eyes&lt;br /&gt;and kiss me below the skies&lt;br /&gt;As I lay there thinking&lt;br /&gt;What would be tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;w/out you and me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take my hand&lt;br /&gt;And lead the way&lt;br /&gt;As we danced barefoot on the grass&lt;br /&gt;On a sunny day&lt;br /&gt;With our hands,&lt;br /&gt;Intertwined, at the beach the shells we find&lt;br /&gt;Are somewhat shaped like mini musketeers&lt;br /&gt;You laughed and kissed me right then and there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chorus:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You make me feel like&lt;br /&gt;A little girl with pigtails in her hair&lt;br /&gt;licking a lollipop as I stared&lt;br /&gt;Into the brown eyes and crooked smile&lt;br /&gt;right there&lt;br /&gt;staring back, in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't sleep, last night&lt;br /&gt;You made me think about you, until twilight&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know, that this could last&lt;br /&gt;Something that started way so fast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't breathe, when you sat right here&lt;br /&gt;saying, "Would you be, a part of me, my dear?"&lt;br /&gt;You held me close, and kissed my hair&lt;br /&gt;All the while I'd kept from screaming inside&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that I could now call you mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Chorus)&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not very good. Since I don't compose much. It sounds like a cheesy nursery rhyme. But then again I have to arrange it first then I'll let you hear next time. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What do you think?&lt;/span&gt; Comments are always loved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-794401534082887233?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/794401534082887233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=794401534082887233' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/794401534082887233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/794401534082887233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/07/one-song-one-tune.html' title='One Song, One Tune.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_accomplished.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-687342400676743654</id><published>2009-07-17T07:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T07:35:00.595+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Overwhelming Frustration</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Written: JUL 14, '09 1730&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mood:&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=worried.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/worried.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Worried&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 202px; height: 311px;" src="http://th05.deviantart.net/images3/300W/i/2004/169/4/d/Broken_Arm.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;There’s really nothing much you can do once you have torn ligaments.  They put a sling around my arm to keep me from moving it. It almost seemed impossible doing anything; thankfully I had administered my left arm in shape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frustration started hitting me when my doctor aka my uncle told me that this might take a long period of time to heal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doc: There’s nothing we can do Ora.  This might take weeks to heal and your getting shipped out next week.  Might as well tell them what’s happening.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yea.  That’s what they keep telling me.&lt;br /&gt;Doc: I know this is hard for you, and I know you want to get shipped out as soon as it might be possible. I just don’t want to get your hopes up.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Well, thanks Tito Roro, but you know what they say, Science only goes as far, and then comes God.&lt;br /&gt;Doc: (he smiled) then comes God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to put into practice what I had learned from that movie. So I gave him that very same line. Unexpectedly, he answered with the scripted answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I all but have been happy today.  I’ve been missing people, felt sentimental and hurt myself emotionally and physically.  A lovely talk with Oscar made it all better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt; i have to come visit u somehow&lt;br /&gt;before u leave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;After RTC :)&lt;br /&gt;How are you going to do that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt; drive&lt;br /&gt;xP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora:&lt;/span&gt;I'll be back at sometime in November.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;it's no big deal&lt;br /&gt;i've driven farther&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora:&lt;/span&gt; hehe I don't want you to drive all the way over here just because of me though :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt; well i don't not wanna meet u yet&lt;br /&gt;ok&lt;br /&gt;we shall meet in november then&lt;br /&gt;is that ok&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora:&lt;/span&gt; sure no prob :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;u and me&lt;br /&gt;dinner =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It's a date then :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt; if ur still single that is&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;navy there is a lot of guys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora:&lt;/span&gt; of course. I'll let you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;Lol ok&lt;br /&gt;it's a date then&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A lot of guys who don't meet my standards :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt; ahAhaha&lt;br /&gt;im up there tho i'll take u to dinner&lt;br /&gt;ur gonna be making more money than me tho lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora:&lt;/span&gt; Will you write to me if I asked for your address?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt;YEA! of course&lt;br /&gt;i wanna keep in touch&lt;br /&gt;Lol silly ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora:&lt;/span&gt; haha you're so :)&lt;br /&gt;I guess if you're not single either when I come back, date's canceled :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt;yea&lt;br /&gt;im pretty sure i'll be single&lt;br /&gt;im just not sure bout u&lt;br /&gt;lolz&lt;br /&gt;im just wanting to have that dinner with u buddy&lt;br /&gt;=]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora:&lt;/span&gt;how's that? There's plenty of girls there :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt;yea&lt;br /&gt;but i ask u to dinner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora:&lt;/span&gt;I won't be having a relationship that soon. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt;i didn't ask anyone else&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora:&lt;/span&gt;how can you trust someone like me, whom you've never met before?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt;well&lt;br /&gt;do u trust urself?&lt;br /&gt;if u do then i can trust u also&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora:&lt;/span&gt;I do. Well you know, you've never met me in person. For all you know I could be a cyber hologram ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt;no&lt;br /&gt;i trust ur real&lt;br /&gt;i trust ur emotions are real&lt;br /&gt;i trust the fact that ur talking to me right now is real&lt;br /&gt;i trust the fact ive heard ur voice before&lt;br /&gt;i trust the fact u have a life just like mine&lt;br /&gt;=]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora:&lt;/span&gt;I remember that night you called me for the very first time :)&lt;br /&gt;The only night I managed to pick up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt;i know it was kinda awkward for u&lt;br /&gt;but i enjoyed it&lt;br /&gt;i'll call u again dis week&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora:&lt;/span&gt;wasn't it awkward for you too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt;maybe tonight&lt;br /&gt;not really&lt;br /&gt;ur voice, it seems really sweet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora&lt;/span&gt;:I'm glad I'm forewarned ;)&lt;br /&gt;Thank you. I get that a lot.&lt;br /&gt;It was fun talking to you too, you made me feel like I knew you all my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;maybe we could feel that way again next time i call u&lt;br /&gt;=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora:&lt;/span&gt;I'll be expecting it. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt;it might be tonight =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aurora:&lt;/span&gt;Might. If I get the chance to answer it. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oscar:&lt;/span&gt; we'll see&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been edited for shortening.  Thank you Oscar for making me feel better.  Meanwhile, I shall pray to God and ask him to heal my arm so they won’t delay my shipping date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/4168714419683840310-687342400676743654?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/687342400676743654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=687342400676743654' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/687342400676743654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/687342400676743654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/07/overwhelming-frustration.html' title='Overwhelming Frustration'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_worried.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-7483775674124658029</id><published>2009-07-15T11:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T11:27:00.671+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bored with Enthusiasm</title><content type='html'>Written: JUL 11, 09 2056&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mood:&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=tired.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/tired.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Tired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have approximately 9 days until departure.  I'm quite anxious actually.  But I'm not as more reluctant to leave my blog on hiatus.  I'm sorry you guys.  Please don't erase me from your affiliates. I swear to come back. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Slv-0pG-gqI/AAAAAAAAAE0/T9rAIKvST7U/s1600-h/DSC02713.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Slv-0pG-gqI/AAAAAAAAAE0/T9rAIKvST7U/s320/DSC02713.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358156362029105826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday the family and I went to the Texas hot air balloon race.  It was sizzling hot as planned, luckily we came in equipped for the season.  They had plenty of things that were well related to flying.  From airplanes to hot air balloons they had it miniaturized to paper airplanes to balloons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another one of those messages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Have fun, babe. I'll talk to you later."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I screamed with joy and my father, mother, and grandmother looked at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uh...I hope they'll let me sit on the pilot's seat." I grinned with embarrassment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun was at the top of the list.  So was experience.  It was fun witnessing the said event.  An errant thought had popped up though.  One of the entertainers is apparently a pop-singer.  She claimed she had an album but I was skeptical at first. She had sung Lady Gaga's "Just dance" but found myself doubting her claims.  Her singing was mediocre but I could tell she had a tad bit of skill in dancing.  Sure enough she was pretty, but her singing didn't impress me.  It was rather after 5 minutes I believed her, when Mark had come up to me and gave me a copy of her album.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where did you get this?"&lt;br /&gt;"A guy came up to me but I don't know who it is."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked around.  Certainly, a few people were clutching her album in their hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;How odd.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is it, that someone who appears inexperienced in the art of singing have an album?  It wasn't just me, the crowd wasn't impressed by her talents either.  She had sung a few songs but considering her singing expertise, I think Rihanna's better.  I guess mentioning her name wouldn't be a good idea for security purposes.  But either way I speculate she's recieved criticisms already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waking up that night, I ventured for a snack. Careful not to wake my puppies, I opened the lights, got out of bed, wrapped the blanket, and tiptoed barefoot to the galley. (My bad, I guess I should say kitchen instead of galley. Just practicing my terms for the military).  We were running low on the cookies that I baked, but I had to check.  Surprisingly, there were two left-enough for me to eat.  Filling a glass of milk, I dipped my cookies before shoving them in my mouth. After a full stomach, I reached for the medicine cabinet, located the tylenol and too, placed it in my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eyes kept open with effort, I took off the blanket and leaped in bed.  The last thing I recall was pushing the off switch with my finger and Rascal licking my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now wouldn't it be cool if I told you that I woke up two days after that? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Sadly, it didn't happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-7483775674124658029?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/7483775674124658029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=7483775674124658029' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7483775674124658029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7483775674124658029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/07/bored-with-enthusiasm.html' title='Bored with Enthusiasm'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_tired.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-2628049499648523596</id><published>2009-07-11T10:55:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T12:30:43.713+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Bye Diary!...Orange."</title><content type='html'>Mood:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally started packing for my departure.  It was pretty sad seeing my pre-loved stuff again, but I had to keep composed.  The glistening mauve book had caught my attention.  Why, I hadn't noticed that I packed this prior setting forth this place.  I guess it must have been something I missed.  I opened it in the middle, not concerning the lack of knowing the introduction.  It read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;June 14, 1999&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Dear Diary,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Today, mommy and I went to the park.  I walked with her while I was eating ice cream.  It was delicious.  Mommy and I walked to where the benches were.  I was tired and hot. She was reading her newspaper and I was eating ice cream.  It was good ice cream.  After a few minutes, mommy's friend came with her son.  They talked while I was with him. He was really nice.  He talked to me about a lot of stuff.  He was really nice.  He drawed a lot of stuff.  He drawed cars and airplanes and a house.  I like the house. He drawed a pretty house.  I told him that someday my house will look like that. He smiled at me.  He had cute dimples.  He told me his name was Ken.  I told him I had the barbie ken.  He smiled again and he said he didn't play with dollies.  I told him it was fun.  Mommy told me we had to go.  So we went.  I said goodbye to him and he smiled and he said goodbye too. I like it when he smiled.  Mommy said I'll get to play with him again.  She said they will come to our house.  I said okay.  I can't wait to see him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye Diary!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Orange.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Orange used to be my nickname when I was a munchkin.  My grandparents had thought of that because they thought it was cute.  I have no reason to blame then, since I have the same input.  Heck my older sister still calls me that.  Oh how I miss her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rested the 10-year-old diary in one of the boxes that are to be shipped after RTC.  Meanwhile, I continued packing, feeling overwhelming solitude again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&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/4168714419683840310-2628049499648523596?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/2628049499648523596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=2628049499648523596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2628049499648523596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2628049499648523596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/07/bye-diaryorange.html' title='&quot;Bye Diary!...Orange.&quot;'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-7640076104363994818</id><published>2009-07-09T04:35:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T04:49:40.211+08:00</updated><title type='text'>4th Of July</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;WRITTEN: July 4, 2009 22:00&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=mellow.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/mellow.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Mellow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing the fire of a shot gun, I went outside.  They were waiting for me.  The all were.  Sitting on the dock there were five chairs, one at the far end empty.  I took a step forward and felt the cool air touch my skin.  The feeling spread and pursed me inside, as if it knew.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;As if it knew.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Independence Day.  Through the darkness I could see a whole lot of colorful lights staring at me.  Boats right in the middle of the lake, waiting for the Fourth of July performance.  I reached my father and he smiled at me.  I’m lucky that I have him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was impatient so I fiddled around with my phone. I texted Jert the whole time until it had started.  He kept me happy these days.  God loved enough to have him as a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a couple of moments, flashes of red sparks rose from the middle of the lake where all the boats residing and it started…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/SlUGCbfLPOI/AAAAAAAAAEU/rqcISJrumu0/s1600-h/Untitled.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 319px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/SlUGCbfLPOI/AAAAAAAAAEU/rqcISJrumu0/s320/Untitled.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356193970635095266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pretty noh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lay in my bed unable to move but my mind wandered. My eyes were open but either way I could only see total blackness with hints of red sparks.  Yes red sparks.  Maybe I was imagining things as I often do.  I didn’t mind.  As long as what I was perceiving is what I desire, I didn’t care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother always told me I was lucky, nevertheless I believed her.  She always told me I was born with a silver spoon with my mouth but I figured she was just exaggerating to convince me to work harder and throw away the attitude I had developed.  It worked in a way it felt natural.  But now, they won’t be there to hover over me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m utterly frightened.  In fortnight I’ll be resuming the rest of my years somewhere foreign- a foreign place which I do not call home.  Home has always been where my mother is.  Sadly, I have to grow up.  It wasn’t so long ago that I realized that I wouldn’t be seeing my family in a daily basis.  I guess I got blinded by my need for adventure.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Adventure, does have it’s consequences.&lt;/span&gt;  How is it that when you finally realize the importance of something in your life that’s the time it’ll slip away from your fingers?  When that something can take away everything you ever wanted, including your source of happiness?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days and days I pondered on this question, unable to think of a rational answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shifted my weight, careful not to hurt my arm.  They put a bandage around it, trying to heal my torn up muscles.  My pigheadedness kicked in when they told me to lay off on the hard core work out.  As if that would have stopped me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was about ready to doze off.  The comfortable feeling of the air had taken me by surprise.  It was raining outside.  My eyes had been shut for a long period of time, but not long enough for me to reach slumber.  I listened to the tone that you hear when all else is quiet.  Then, with surprise…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ring.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-7640076104363994818?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/7640076104363994818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=7640076104363994818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7640076104363994818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7640076104363994818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/07/4th-of-july.html' title='4th Of July'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_mellow.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-4714788447471197436</id><published>2009-07-05T11:05:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T11:52:24.013+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sleepless Night</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Written: July 2, 2009 3:21 a.m.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=sleepy.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/sleepy.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sleepy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: Only Remind me of you - MYMP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opened my eyes and saw, nothing.  It was pitch black but I knew something was wrong.  I was paralyzed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started moaning - trying to recover my arms.  I couldn't move them at all.  I layed there, petrified, trying to think if this was a dream or not. This could not be a dream.  It was much too painful for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few minutes of failed attempts, I managed to move my arms back.  It was a matter of strategy and force.  I had forgotten how I did it, but I did.  I had never had encountered anything like this before.  Although I was suffering from fatigue for a few days because of training, I didn't think o fit as a good enough reason for my training to lay mild.  After all, I only have 18 days left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://pics.livejournal.com/boundary/pic/00bz1c6g"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="http://pics.livejournal.com/boundary/pic/00bz1c6g" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I glanced over the clock. Psh.  It was 3:21 a.m.  How the hell am I supposed to get some sleep?  It's bad enough I've been having sleeping disorders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shuffled to check my new phone.  What a cool glossy screen it has.  It was a shame I never thought of buying this when I got here.  As eager as I was, I checked if the battery's life was originally intact.  Thank God, it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3494/3303460361_c260f6a530.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 338px; height: 253px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3494/3303460361_c260f6a530.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hey I got a message. I wonder if...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I looked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Oh crap it's him.  Whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesh.  He's been having sleep problems too.  I didn't reply - he made me utterly aggravated the other day I didn't feel the need to respond.  I got tired.  It was too much for me.  Just too much.  He's going to have to face this by himself, now.  Without me, anymore.  A world, without me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, we are different. I had to stop pretending to be who I'm not.  This couldn't work out anymore.  It wasn't so long ago since I tried letting him a part of my world.  It was exciting, fun and I loved him.  But I wasn't happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry but now, it's his turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ring.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello, love goodmorning.  Just woke and you were the first thing that popped up my mind.  I know you're sleeping but I just couldn't resist the urge to text you.  I'm ready to start the day by working out.  See you later when we run at the lake.  Take care.&lt;/blockquote&gt;I smiled to myself.  He's such a sweet boy.  It's great we're going to boot camp together.  I'm also quite thankful that I have him to help me out on the physical stuff.  Then again, he's exceptionally smart as well.  I can't complain there.  I can always interrogate him. haha :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey.  Good Morning too, love.  Naw, I'm awake.  You're utterly sweet. =]  Thanks for taking the time to text me.  I'll be ready later.  Can't wait.  Take care and have fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pressed send and put back the phone in its stand. I layed down on my back, stared at those glow in the dark stars I stuck on the ceiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs12/i/2006/282/5/3/Night_Ceiling_by_DeathSinAngel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 453px; height: 339px;" src="http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs12/i/2006/282/5/3/Night_Ceiling_by_DeathSinAngel.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I reluctantly closed my eyes, feeling exhaustion closing over me. I played my lullaby in my head, all the while thinking of his memory.  In a few moments,I drifted into unconsciousness...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-4714788447471197436?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/4714788447471197436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=4714788447471197436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4714788447471197436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4714788447471197436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/07/sleepless-night.html' title='A Sleepless Night'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_sleepy.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-4227938782538468944</id><published>2009-06-30T09:50:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T12:28:17.697+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A couple of things</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=worried.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/worried.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Worried&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fc04.deviantart.com/fs11/i/2006/174/2/e/Rain_by_k_lia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 463px; height: 343px;" src="http://fc04.deviantart.com/fs11/i/2006/174/2/e/Rain_by_k_lia.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I jogged this morning, I could hear the thudding noises of my feet.  I looked up at the white sky and saw droplets of water pouring down on my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What a fine day to jog.  It wouldn't be as hot as it usually is.  Thank God.&lt;/span&gt; I thought to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While jogging, I remembered what happened to me after work, it was a Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bye Ms. Sarah and Ms. Kitt! I'll see you guys next week!"&lt;br /&gt;I waved at them deliberately while their van skidded over to the side of the road.  While I sat at the front of the store to wait for my mother's pickup, I held up my left arm towards me and looked at the clock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;3:30 pm. Great. 30 more minutes to kill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I sat up and walked towards town.  I noticed a lot of signs that looked familiar, but I never really looked up.  I went towards the next store beside ours, cautiously looking at the window.  It was a nice little shop, full of women's accessories and paintings that would fit a 21st century house.  I loved the place in an instant. I always loved stores that had items that were related to quotes.  I loved them, but didn't buy from them.  They were much too expensive.  Well, expensive for me, anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i40.tinypic.com/1jrwv7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 449px; height: 319px;" src="http://i40.tinypic.com/1jrwv7.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I looked, I went outside.  It was just now that I noticed how flaming hot it was.  I was sweating from head to toe- this didn't bother me as much, since working out had me in this condition all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Man. It's totally hot. I guess I'd better go to the library.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked to the library.  Walking in a fast pace, I reached it within 5 minutes.  Just as I was walking to the stairs, I noticed the sign that says for Sundays.  Closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What rotten luck.  Where should I go now? It's blazing hot and if I don't get out of the sun quick, I'll pass out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I searched for a nice shaded place to stay.  Then it hit me.  The Church.  It would be open.  Like always.  Why didn't I think of that?  I walked back to town, my whole body covering in sweat.  I guess God will always provide you with what you need right?  I reached the church in 10 minutes, even so there was still a lot of time to kill.  The bathroom was open.  Everything was accessible. I freshen up as I waited.  Heck I even sang in the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;A little thought goes a long way.  I barely even noticed that I was getting tired of jogging.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;Another thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't really stop thinking about him, because of what's been happening. I was utterly aggravated because of the fact that he left me hanging there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Stupid girl. Use your brain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't see him anymore. I really can't.  I've never thought anybody could give me this feeling- a feeling so intense that I wanted to literally choke somebody.  Why can't he just make my life less complicated than it really is?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God, he did.  I wouldn't have to think about him, and dream of us being together anymore.  He let me down, and for this I will not tolerate.  After I give him his precious item back I'll never ever have to see him again and I would never ever have to lie to my parents.  It's just not like me.  You see?  We're not compatible. Even being friends with him will get me in trouble.  How can that be?  Why would I be friends with someone who will cost me an extensive amount of trouble?  I shouldn't.  I wouldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will be the last time.  I don't want to be involved and jeopardize my parent's trust on me again.  That's the right thing right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was getting near the house.  All covered in dripping water, I was about ready to call it for a day and take a warm bath. As I reached my phone, I flipped it open and saw a message from Edward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hey goodmorning, dear.  Would you like to come and watch transformers with me?  My treat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smiled my crooked smile and replied.  What a nice way to start off a day. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-4227938782538468944?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/4227938782538468944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=4227938782538468944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4227938782538468944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4227938782538468944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/06/couple-of-things.html' title='A couple of things'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_worried.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-7073240722437437424</id><published>2009-06-21T11:25:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T12:03:06.259+08:00</updated><title type='text'>One last love Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mood:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=nostalgic.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/nostalgic.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Nostalgic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Music:&lt;/span&gt; Right Round - Flo Rida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss being away from people that I love. I very much dislike it.  What am I to do? For the only reason why I'm here is for my own personal enjoyment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what happens now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Goodmorning my beautiful.  I hope you slept well and I can't wait to see you.  HAPPY VALENTINES DAY." - Feb. 14, 09 6:06 a.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a book full of these.  When my heart was shattered to pieces I caught myself trying to erase the memory that he'd left.  I found myself looking back at everything he said to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You matter most in my life! Luv u goodnite." Mar 12, 09 9:14pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I have to stop dreaming.  He'll never come back.  Well, he did.  Because of my pigheadedness I knew he would stop.  He came back.  Texted me one day saying...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm going to miss you..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was bewildered by the fact that I was completely over him and didn't think about him anymore.  I guess he just missed me.  Missing someone is far different than loving that person still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess this is it. My last post about him.  It's good to be numb sometimes.  Hakuna Matata. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The special moments that we shared together faded into memories that will never happen again. &lt;br /&gt;We both fell in love.&lt;br /&gt;We both were happy.&lt;br /&gt;But it just had to end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we all had happy endings, we'd be under gravestones by now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-7073240722437437424?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/7073240722437437424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=7073240722437437424' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7073240722437437424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7073240722437437424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/06/one-last-love-song.html' title='One last love Song'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_nostalgic.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-3779252243261769916</id><published>2009-06-15T05:30:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T07:10:44.891+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A mistake.</title><content type='html'>Mood:&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=guilty.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/guilty.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Guilty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lying. It's not part of the ten commandments but still, it is a sin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So you planned it, did you not? This morning when we went to Church you told me we couldn't drop you off because you left your clothes at home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bowed my head. I could not do anything else but look ashamed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I did not expect this from you, Rae. You are such a sweet girl and I am really proud of you but I did not expect you to do this to us."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to look at my father. I knew what was going to end up. I just had to do it, my one and only chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry, daddy. I..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry isn't going to do it, Rae.  What you've done can't be corrected by an apology.  Sure it feels good but this is going to take time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Blink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"I guess it's best if you don't drive Jasper for a while.  If you have to go somewhere you can make arrangements with your mom or I."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, daddy"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do know that it's going to take weeks or even months for us to trust you again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, daddy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Alright. I'm done"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came up to him and wrapped my arms around him, genuinely. I was surprised he encouraged me; he rubbed my back.  I shall not do this again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was my reason for performing my deceitful actions?  Why did I even think of doing this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to see him, one last time. He's going to be leaving in 2 months and I can be shipped to contention immediately.  So what have I got to lose, right? Knowing that my mother would not let me, I was forced to &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;deceive&lt;/span&gt; them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crying has been my last primarily action of venting.  They work. Somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bye ate Nathalie! I'm going to miss you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She left yesterday at the airport.  I was the last person to hug her, knowing that I would not be seeing her for an extensive time.  She's my sister, mentor, and best friend.  We're very close and I love her so much. It's like she took half of myself away with her. I can't bear the asunder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't worry, Orange, I'll be back this December." her eyes moistened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'but I'm not going to be here this December.' &lt;/span&gt;I thought to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hugged her tight for a long time. I did not want to let her go.  But eventually, I did.  She walked into the terminal with a smile but sobering. I knew she was trying to hide it.  You could have seen the pain she had on her face.  It was conscience-stricken. I have to be with her this December.  I just had to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She disappeared into the crowd and that was the end of it.  The truck was filled with dead air and tranquility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took out my player, played some music, and put my dynamic stereo headphones on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I'm sorry. Please help me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fc06.deviantart.com/fs11/i/2006/233/1/d/Sad_girl_by_Emeraldus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 261px; height: 229px;" src="http://fc06.deviantart.com/fs11/i/2006/233/1/d/Sad_girl_by_Emeraldus.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-3779252243261769916?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/3779252243261769916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=3779252243261769916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3779252243261769916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3779252243261769916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/06/mistake.html' title='A mistake.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_guilty.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-7956735160143044162</id><published>2009-05-28T06:24:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T06:26:22.032+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Short But Sweet Memory</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Mood:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;strike&gt;Twitterpated.&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Music:&lt;/b&gt; La la Land - Demi Lovato&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I promise I will never forget the day we kissed or the day we met.  T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;he sky may fall and the stars may too, but in the end I will still love you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the quote I sent him last night.  I was bewildered by the events that took place recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://th06.deviantart.com/fs38/300W/f/2008/347/6/f/A_guy_and_a_girl_by_evillittlecherry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 274px;" src="http://th06.deviantart.com/fs38/300W/f/2008/347/6/f/A_guy_and_a_girl_by_evillittlecherry.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you want for your birthday?" said he.&lt;br /&gt;"You know what I want."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were alone together at the corner of the room.  He leaned in closer, took my chin and gently touched his lips to mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His lips were soft-fine as melting honey.  It took a split second for me to realize that I could not breath.  Hah.  I could not help but grin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's the matter?  he said.&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing...Uhm...You just...surprised me.  That's all."&lt;br /&gt;"Aww. Am sorry"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took my hand and kissed it.  I miss that feeling.  This feeling of having someone in your life.  The feeling where you're so much deep in love, where you can't see anyone but him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not help but gaze into his chocolate-colored eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*bell*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is the last day we'll have English 4 together.  I'll be seeing you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my averse, he kissed me on the cheek and walked away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-7956735160143044162?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/7956735160143044162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=7956735160143044162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7956735160143044162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7956735160143044162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/05/short-but-sweet-memory.html' title='A Short But Sweet Memory'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-4869564513587389229</id><published>2009-05-25T11:53:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T12:12:30.439+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Challenge</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=grateful.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/grateful.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Grateful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: I love her - Marques Housten&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon, ay ang aking kaarawan. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon din, susubukan ko magtagalog. Unang post ko to ha. Kaya, huwag niyo akong tawanan. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Takte&lt;/span&gt; ang hirap. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nagdesisyon ako na magtatagalog ako, para lang may thrill ba? Hindi ko alam tagalog ng "Thrill" eh. Tulong naman oh? Hindi talaga ako marunong magtagalog, lalo na magbuo ng mga pangungusap na ang hirap ay para sakin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grabe. Napakacomplicado at nakakpagod ng husto. Pano kaya ako pumasa sa clase namin sa Filipino? hehe Inuto ko lang yung ticher. Joke lang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alam mo ba gano ako katagal binuo yung mga yan sa itaas? mga 30 minuto. haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kailan niyo kaya naisip na gumamit pa ako ng disyunario? Baka ngayon lang kasi binanggit ko?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay ayaw ko na. Alam ko may mga mali ako sa mga sinulat ko. Paki sabi nga saakin para matuto ako?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salamat po.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Magandang Kaarawan.&lt;br /&gt;Ang labo ko, alam ko. hehe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-4869564513587389229?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/4869564513587389229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=4869564513587389229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4869564513587389229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4869564513587389229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/05/birthday-challenge.html' title='Birthday Challenge'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_grateful.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-2679717827829296840</id><published>2009-05-16T11:23:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T11:58:07.442+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Employed!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mood:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=hyper.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/hyper.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Hyper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Music:&lt;/span&gt; Just Dance - Lady Gaga&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright. A bunch of other relevant things have been happening in my life.  First of all, let's stop talking about love. lols.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still think about him, but I guess I'm numb now. It helps. I just took time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I've been running around the school and Jefferson for jobs and scholarships.  I've submitted all the scholarships I could find to the counselor.  Jobs? I've tried applying to Brookshires, Sonic, Dairy Queen, and The Jefferson Hotel.  Sadly, all of them are booked. Then a few days later I found out from Jam that Kitt's shortbread house was hiring. I immediately went there and applied. Good thing she was impressed.  She told me she would call me a week later regarding the job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She called me about my schedule and now she's going to let me work  every Saturday. Not bad for a summer job and for college.  I'm pretty happy about the shop and the people there. They're really friendly and everything compared to Sonics, Diary Queen, and the like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay everything's so hectic for me. It's surprisingly enjoyable! lols&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I'm at Houston, Texas, for a robotics competition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://daytranslations.com/images/houston-texas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 337px;" src="http://daytranslations.com/images/houston-texas.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm so nervous for tomorrow. Wish me luck. On Sunday, we'll be watching Star Trek and will be arriving back at home at the evening. The next day we have a coffee house concert.  The next day after that we'll be leaving for Dallas to watch "Fiddler on the Roof". I'm looking forward to take pictures with Gilbert. hehe Hope it'll be fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, I'm going to be absent for the half of the day to get my training at Kitts.  Oh well, atleast I'll get paid, diba? With tip pa!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-2679717827829296840?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/2679717827829296840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=2679717827829296840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2679717827829296840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2679717827829296840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/05/employed.html' title='Employed!'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_hyper.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-6247649205247062420</id><published>2009-05-16T10:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T11:19:03.525+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scenes and Revelations</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;WRITTEN: &lt;/span&gt;May 22, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mood: &lt;/span&gt;It's just not right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Watching TV.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you're too busy trying to make everybody happy, you won't be happy"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hah.  Now I got it.  Now I completely understand why things went wrong.  It was that creepy feeling I made him undergo through our past affinity.  It's been my senseless efforts of passion.  My passion.  It's amazing how reading the twilight series can do to your mind.  It's affecting the standards of teenage girls.  I've blabbed too much romantic propaganda.  During the time, I thought-treat people the way you want them to treat you.  Makes sense right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not in this equation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Furious at him.&lt;br /&gt;I will not tolerate his behavior, thus, will speak not to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Found a new one.&lt;br /&gt;I've been crushin on this guy the moment I saw him.  now Gilbert's single.  He's been flirting with me.  Oh my.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problems&lt;br /&gt;-He can't keep his cool&lt;br /&gt;-He's younger&lt;br /&gt;-I'm leaving for college&lt;br /&gt;-He's over romantically dramatic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're not together.  Here's a pic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sg4ukyvs-_I/AAAAAAAAAEI/CrW6AGpMpcY/s1600-h/DSC01523.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sg4ukyvs-_I/AAAAAAAAAEI/CrW6AGpMpcY/s320/DSC01523.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336253818112637938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still think about people from my past.  I wonder if they still think about me.  I still think of pappy.  I wonder if he has met another girl yet.  I still think of jake as well.  Aww. I miss him.  Lastly of course, I still think of that guy who made me feel gloomy.  That guy who just won't stop being a dick to me.  That James.  Why is it that, even if he's being his obnoxious self I still can't get over him.  Why?  I think of him almost everyday and wonder if he thinks of me too.  It's sad how everything has to end this way.  All the pity and emptiness overcomes me everyday when I go to bed.  Why hasn't my heart learned to love another?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need more time. Yes, time again. I'll probably end up using all the time of eternity.  What a waste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, I still have other things to ponder about.  Like life. Yea. Life.&lt;br /&gt;What about life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm turning 18 on May 25.  My sister and lola's coming from the Philippines.  We're going to have a small gathering at home.  Since we have a humuongus lake, we're going to get the jetski out and ride the banana boat, either the while some of my friends play volleyball or swim in the lake.  Meanwhile daddy and I will be cooking food for everybody.  I am not hesitant of whatever or not people will have fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Argh.  What a mess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-6247649205247062420?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/6247649205247062420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=6247649205247062420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/6247649205247062420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/6247649205247062420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/05/scenes-and-revelations.html' title='Scenes and Revelations'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sg4ukyvs-_I/AAAAAAAAAEI/CrW6AGpMpcY/s72-c/DSC01523.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-1501823213533356408</id><published>2009-05-04T09:34:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T10:01:04.182+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trip to Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Written: &lt;/strong&gt;April 17&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Time: &lt;/strong&gt;5:55pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mood:&lt;/strong&gt; Silently aggravated &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=pessimistic.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/pessimistic.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Warning: &lt;/strong&gt;A series of random events shall be told. Confusion will be expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I sent him a message saying how I felt about not being friends. He replied not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;briefly&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to him the next day. I was blissful but it all felt unethical. He made me fall out of love with him now he's making me fall in love with me again? Damn it. Quit making him play games with my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We slowly drifted, again. It seems like an innate gesture nowadays. I asked him if we would go to prom together, because he did not want to feel lonely. I did not want to get stuck with the same scenario, so I figured, why not go as friends right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's more physical, I'm more emotional. Yea he can get away with the holding hands but I don't get my way when it comes to needing someone to talk to. Where's the justice in that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easter arrived. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; him, needing a human entity to hover with me, but he didn't respond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drifted under the boundaries of friendship. Only to realize that we're not fit to be friends. I would rather take it him not being friends with me, than him annoying me to death. Yesterday I deliberately asked him if I could give him a ride to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Mcdonalds&lt;/span&gt;-where his car resided. But he rudely tagged his friend along, with me unknowingly speechless. How rude. All they did was criticize everything I had. Not that I blame them for it. I won't get into detail. It's more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;embarrassing&lt;/span&gt; than it really is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They wouldn't leave yet when I got there. So I gave them hints that I need not their presence inside Jasper. He gave me a peck on the cheek and never said thanks. Actions &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;speak&lt;/span&gt; louder than words - but it wouldn't hurt to mention them out loud. He told me he'll text me later, which he did, but I didn't expect nor entertain him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left home when I got there, bringing my clothes and necessities. Lethargic and exhausted, Daddy drove for 10 straight hours. At about 3am, we arrived in Alabama. We slept in a park to pass time. Mark's 150 high performance bike was picked up. I was happy because of the fact that daddy said that next time, it would be my turn. My turn to get a special gift. My turn to smile. That immediately cheered me up thinking if he'll give me a car or a laptop. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Yeay&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the beach. You have no idea how intense the anxiety that swept over me. It was beyond euphoria, only for a split second. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Their&lt;/span&gt; beaches had sugar sand-comparable to B&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;oracays&lt;/span&gt;'. We played with the seagulls. It was fun being blown away by the vigorous wind. It was more to run and try to catch them knowing that they would just fly away-just like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Timoune&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Pumba&lt;/span&gt; in the Lion King. Remember that scene?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all of us content, we're now on our way home. He miss called me 2 hours ago. I didn't answer. He then asked me where I was. Like he really cared. I simply said we were in Florida - which we were a minute ago. He asked what time we'll be back. I said I don't know. Then, he said I wouldn't be able to ride with him in the limo. I did not plan to go to prom. I was just going because of him. Just so he won't be lonely. I guess my efforts are for nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're on our way home. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;assume&lt;/span&gt; we'll be home at around 2 in the morning. Not bad. I've time to get ready for prom. Trying to figure out a way to hide my burnt knees which I got from volleyball. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Ttyl&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-1501823213533356408?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/1501823213533356408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=1501823213533356408' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/1501823213533356408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/1501823213533356408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/05/trip-to-louisiana-mississippi-and.html' title='Trip to Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_pessimistic.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-8950173662394614948</id><published>2009-04-22T04:16:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T01:09:21.091+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanking a horrible Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Written:&lt;/strong&gt; March 26 '09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Time: &lt;/strong&gt;7:03am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up by the sound of the radio. Shuffled around to look at my phone. A message from Cannon was there. I felt loved and touched thinking of his memory. Two seconds later, my mom was knocking on the wooden door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"grace."&lt;br /&gt;"Oh?"&lt;br /&gt;"gising na. 6 o'clock na."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That horrible familiar pain hit me. &lt;strong&gt;I miss him.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have come to the stage where I want him back - the same stage I had with milky. I had undeliberately begged him to come back. He stressed that he was planning to ask this other girl out. How considerate of him. blah. I finally let my hopes down. You know what she said to him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. Sweet Karma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327243463573728370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 101px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Se4rtIZVbHI/AAAAAAAAAEA/tR5bpCKxVJU/s320/63-7.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-8950173662394614948?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/8950173662394614948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=8950173662394614948' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8950173662394614948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8950173662394614948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/04/thanking-horrible-day.html' title='Thanking a horrible Day'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Se4rtIZVbHI/AAAAAAAAAEA/tR5bpCKxVJU/s72-c/63-7.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-8875611831788173057</id><published>2009-03-28T00:24:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T01:43:31.268+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A REASON to smile</title><content type='html'>A REASON to smile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mood:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=rejuvenated.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/rejuvenated.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Rejuvenated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Music:&lt;/strong&gt; Nada. In Computer Class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been sort of depressed during this month. I'm so glad ate Nathalie sent me these emails. It kept me laughing for the whole week. Thought I'd share it to you guys:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0SGAPw3KI/AAAAAAAAAD4/ng03msE9cfw/s1600-h/mail.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317926629349055650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 118px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0SGAPw3KI/AAAAAAAAAD4/ng03msE9cfw/s320/mail.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;broked?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0SGBC1cII/AAAAAAAAADw/B30uybOH-iQ/s1600-h/17989901.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317926629563265154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0SGBC1cII/AAAAAAAAADw/B30uybOH-iQ/s320/17989901.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0R9ppgPBI/AAAAAAAAADo/HIiKbS5SnYA/s1600-h/17979438.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317926485844048914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 281px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0R9ppgPBI/AAAAAAAAADo/HIiKbS5SnYA/s320/17979438.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It's understandable naman eh. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0R9gMbuhI/AAAAAAAAADg/yc6Z01X6Hik/s1600-h/17941095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317926483306199570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 259px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0R9gMbuhI/AAAAAAAAADg/yc6Z01X6Hik/s320/17941095.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Black or white?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0R9oGNApI/AAAAAAAAADY/572hwa_9W6A/s1600-h/17780797.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317926485427552914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 313px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 251px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0R9oGNApI/AAAAAAAAADY/572hwa_9W6A/s320/17780797.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Oi! Bawal daw maghapak!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0R9lA9N4I/AAAAAAAAADQ/ESjFeFBSIyg/s1600-h/17772262.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317926484600240002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 186px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0R9lA9N4I/AAAAAAAAADQ/ESjFeFBSIyg/s320/17772262.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Tinatamad ata magspell nang checken...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0R9dtnbVI/AAAAAAAAADI/RkJT2BTA9uI/s1600-h/17755292.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317926482640072018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 308px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 287px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0R9dtnbVI/AAAAAAAAADI/RkJT2BTA9uI/s320/17755292.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lasing ata yung gumawa nito eh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0RtDyaAII/AAAAAAAAADA/U2C6hHFFphs/s1600-h/17732115.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317926200802934914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 261px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0RtDyaAII/AAAAAAAAADA/U2C6hHFFphs/s320/17732115.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ifull daw ung string.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0RtPVdtcI/AAAAAAAAAC4/GFWVj-oJyqE/s1600-h/17545149.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317926203902768578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 297px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0RtPVdtcI/AAAAAAAAAC4/GFWVj-oJyqE/s320/17545149.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahaha! paborito ko 'to. grabe :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0RtHsWdOI/AAAAAAAAACw/TwfR4wsDWxg/s1600-h/17438741.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317926201851278562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 199px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0RtHsWdOI/AAAAAAAAACw/TwfR4wsDWxg/s320/17438741.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hey guys, Jovelyn is inside the cabinet daw...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0Rs3CzgXI/AAAAAAAAACo/Q7lBaPPuvd8/s1600-h/17404810.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317926197382054258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 207px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0Rs3CzgXI/AAAAAAAAACo/Q7lBaPPuvd8/s320/17404810.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; badminton para sa mga men?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0Rs0OUs_I/AAAAAAAAACg/b8Ib8Ngmbtc/s1600-h/17267742.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317926196625060850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/Sc0Rs0OUs_I/AAAAAAAAACg/b8Ib8Ngmbtc/s320/17267742.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;wag daw! wag!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Hay I love forwards :) haha Tell me what you think :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-8875611831788173057?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/8875611831788173057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=8875611831788173057' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8875611831788173057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8875611831788173057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/03/reason-to-smile.html' title='A REASON to smile'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_rejuvenated.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-7785757189888543220</id><published>2009-03-26T04:32:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T08:42:31.156+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Salamat Kuya Warren</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=relaxed.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/relaxed.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Recumbent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music:&lt;/strong&gt; Nada. English Class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317226789989590690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/ScqVl_eFJqI/AAAAAAAAACY/Md2A3CvJ0CI/s320/Love__by_darkbutterfly6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, no one said it was easy. Falling in love is one of the most pleasurable and simultaneously frightening experiences one can have. After all, you ARE making yourself extremely vulnerable, practically handing your heart over to someone. In a way, falling in love is an act of surrendering. You are giving into your feelings and letting things happen. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;You are&lt;/span&gt; essentially giving up any control you have, risking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;the outcome&lt;/span&gt;. You let the person in, share things you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wouldn't tell&lt;/span&gt; your best friend, meet the family, etc., all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;while risking&lt;/span&gt; that it might not work out. On second thought, fall-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ing&lt;/span&gt; love sounds terrifying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So how do we make that leap of faith? What helps us get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;over our&lt;/span&gt; fears, insecurities, and doubts? In a world that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;can't create&lt;/span&gt; love as disposable as a daily newspaper, what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;could possibly&lt;/span&gt; make us risk rejection? I propose that it's not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;a choice&lt;/span&gt;. Falling in love is not a choice. It just is.&lt;br /&gt;Hear me out. We can think we are jaded all we want, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;when real&lt;/span&gt;, true love walks in, we don't have a choice. You &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;can't predict&lt;/span&gt; when it will happen, but you'll know it when it does.Sure, you can resist it, but why bother? The thing is, if &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;you find&lt;/span&gt; someone whom you really connect with, YOU ARE LUCKY. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Who are&lt;/span&gt; you to dismiss love? Cherish it! People talk about"connecting" all the time, but what does that actually mean?It means that not only do you share similar interests, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;talkfor&lt;/span&gt; hours and beg for more, have crazy hot chemistry, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;also that&lt;/span&gt; your heart has found its best friend. Your soul &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;has been&lt;/span&gt; reunited with its twin. You don't have a choice in some-thing like that. IT JUST IS. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's immediately thinking of the person when you wake up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;in the&lt;/span&gt; morning. It's thinking of them throughout the day &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;and wanting&lt;/span&gt; them to know it. It's that they are the first &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;person you&lt;/span&gt; think of to share great news or mundane trivialities with.It's your best friend in and out of the sack. And if &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;you have&lt;/span&gt; someone like that, you are lucky, lucky, lucky. When &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;you actually&lt;/span&gt; meet someone with whom you have an inexplicable"connection," you will not have a choice whether to love.Your carefully guarded heart won't stand a chance because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;you will&lt;/span&gt; rise to the occasion (no pun intended - I know &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;where your&lt;/span&gt; minds went!) without you even realizing it. You will do whatever you can to keep that person. Match. Set. Game. No choice. It just is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An email I got from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Kuya&lt;/span&gt; Warren.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Merci&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;iframe marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" src="http://www.iconator.com//box-one.php?id=1765184" frameborder="0" width="100" scrolling="no" height="100" color="transparent"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-7785757189888543220?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/7785757189888543220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=7785757189888543220' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7785757189888543220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7785757189888543220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/03/salamat-kuya-warren.html' title='Salamat Kuya Warren'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_relaxed.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-1908020390017714658</id><published>2009-03-18T00:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T01:52:22.843+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Diabolical Thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Mood:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=stressed.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/stressed.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Mixed Feelings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Music:&lt;/strong&gt; T Shirt - Shontelle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's improvise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't Cry because it's over. Cry because it's happened."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“If you really love something set it free. If it comes back it’s yours, if not it wasn’t meant to be.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Sunday, my worst fears has come to live. It was over. Although I knew it was coming, I didn't want to do it myself. I didn't want to be the heartbreaker that I was. We both knew it was coming, coming fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recieved it the moment I woke up. I cried. I felt better. I won't have a reason to beat myself up anymore. I guess it really was the best for both of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that day, I recieved two proposals. I felt flattered. It's uncommon to hook up with another guy right after. They'll only serve as a rebound. I have no intention on making that same mistake, &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;My parent's wedding took place that day.  Grace Mcdonalds came over to my house and chat.  I played my tantrums so I could go to the movies late that night with her. That's an overstatement.  We did have fun. I was chatting with my &lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;brother &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;on yahoo messenger while watching "Push".  He helped me.  I'm so glad he was there.  I love him as my own and I thank him for that.  That &lt;em&gt;was &lt;/em&gt;the end of my misery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;...and so I thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The next day(yesterday), it hit me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Am I going insane? Now that I have the power to use the Jasper on my own will, I can just go to his house, if he'll still let me. The only thought that came up was,"No. You shall not do this. He loves another."-that insignificant and irrational thought was the only thing that stopped me.  What's happening to me? What happened to that sweet little girl who never broke the rules?  She's gone. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A distraction.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;After a couple of deep breaths, and the reading of breaking dawn, yosuke helped me.  If you're reading this, thank you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I hid my phone. I hid Jasper's keys as well.  I had an outbreak. Through my friends' help, I somehow put myself together. I administered to pick up the broken pieces of my heart.  I still feel awful, yes-but only time may heal the pain.  I've never felt this kind of feeling before; a feeling so intense, that makes me do things that are utterly full of idiocy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I slept the pain away.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Today.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My own life meant little to me today. I felt dazzed and disoriented. Was that a dream?  Was the stage of insanity I had going to continue its part today? It didn't. I was enjoying myself-how strange. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This had to be it, I'm corrupting my youthful innocence.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-1908020390017714658?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/1908020390017714658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=1908020390017714658' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/1908020390017714658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/1908020390017714658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/03/diabolical-thoughts.html' title='Diabolical Thoughts'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_stressed.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-5556020616580949223</id><published>2009-02-14T22:10:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T10:52:54.209+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inseperable</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Mood: &lt;strong&gt;Sleepy.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: River flows in you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Valentines&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a knack of writing for my blog during car rides. This is the only tedious and right time to think about what to jot down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyways, today, we went bowling and go-karting as a family. Going to church and eating at the asian cuisine came in consecutively. Of course, I texted him half the time. Who is he? Oh yes, I forgot to mention him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is he? He's like my Edward, only less perfect. Who's perfect anyways? We have very good chemistry. Not a few days have pased but we're both inseperable. We talk like we're childhood bestfriends. Our intelectual level is informatively balanced. Well, then again, he is a whole lot smarter than me, nevertheless, that's what I like about him. We both love winning. I'm indecisive, he's a born leader. He has green eyes, I have brown. He's tall, I'm petite. He's into rock music, I'm into classical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're opposites. Scientifically, opposities attract. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a picture of us:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305076758693906786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/SZ9rNFwhiWI/AAAAAAAAACA/ly1OH2wBue8/s320/DSC00658.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Well, give me a comment and tell me what you think :D por favor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Here's what I got for Valentine's Day:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303124802595074834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/SZh76So-MxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/O-4yRcONwF8/s320/DSC00544.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The teddy bear holding the chocolate and the flowers came from him. That was really sweet. It's the thought that counts right? Even so, I loved it! The others were given by friends. There was a balloon, but I forgot to take a picture of it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I guess we're nearing home. I'll talk to you later. Toodles.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-5556020616580949223?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/5556020616580949223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=5556020616580949223' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5556020616580949223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5556020616580949223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/02/inseperable.html' title='Inseperable'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/SZ9rNFwhiWI/AAAAAAAAACA/ly1OH2wBue8/s72-c/DSC00658.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-8899446575637025568</id><published>2009-01-26T03:24:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T04:12:10.751+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Morning DriveThrough</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=indescribable.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/indescribable.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Indescribable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: Nada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Written: 6:20 A.M. Jan 20&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're on our way to Dallas. We have to take our biometrics for the benefit of the immigration. Since unintentionally I've been negleting my blog, what better way to spend my time in the car by writing for my blog?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;What's been happening:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Practice for the 1-act-play&lt;br /&gt;(The drama club people have major issues. They seem to have personality disorders. No wonder why I'm a part of their little clan.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Skipping Robots for the 1-act-play&lt;br /&gt;(How stupid it was to join that club because of him. Now that it's the thing of the past, I actually do have plans on leaving.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Recorded and uploaded my song song Don't Forget by Demi Lovato&lt;br /&gt;(I absolutely think that she's brilliant. She's pretty and musically inclined.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="349" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eCIEgDSvOlE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eCIEgDSvOlE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x006699&amp;color2=0x54abd6&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="349"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-driving in and out of town by myself.&lt;br /&gt;(I'm so glad daddy finally encouraged me to drive by myself. After seeing me drive, [I'm thankfully that it wasn't a horrific experience] he unwillingly approved of taking Jasper to town and back. And, mind you, it's a stick shift. :) After constantly driving for hours, I must say that Manila's traffic is horribly worse.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Craves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-referring to my last post, hah. Où est-il ?&lt;br /&gt;(someone who doesn't go for the fame and popularity. Some who doesn't look as halfbad. A romantic, intelligent, goodlooking, Edward. My Edward.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-A laptop.&lt;br /&gt;(It's bad enough I had to sell mine thinking I would buy one immediately here. It's more of like a necessity now, really. It equals as my craving as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-A Job.&lt;br /&gt;(working is my ownly way of buying things that I want. Better yet, earn to have better access to Universities.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3295/2598611425_0570deb698.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun's starting to rise. I've been sidetracked by the radio halfway I was writing. Anyways, it need not matter. I wonder how everything would be like if I was in the Philippines right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would be broke. Yes, inevitably broke.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-8899446575637025568?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/8899446575637025568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=8899446575637025568' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8899446575637025568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8899446575637025568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/01/morning-drivethrough.html' title='Morning DriveThrough'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_indescribable.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-8749791023884391511</id><published>2009-01-22T22:35:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T22:35:00.378+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the drunken times</title><content type='html'>Mood: Sleepy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: a soft buzz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Written: Jan 19, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you look for in a guy?  Good looks?  Intelligence? Perhaps, humour?  It's difficult to say. Not all guys are the same.  Every single one's different.  Though they do have things in common.  Wouldn't it be nice if he had all these qualities?  Absolutely.  Absolutely impossible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intelligence cannot be forgotten.  I actually look for intellectual intelligence in a guy.  I'm an avid sucker of knowledge so I hope he'll be able to satisfy me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romance is another thing.  All girls would like to have their&lt;em&gt; kilig&lt;/em&gt; moments at times.  One guy I dated used to kiss my hand.  The blood through my veins used to rise to my cheecks whenever that incident occurred.  I felt very much charmed.  Everytime he would do that maneuver would make me feel like melting honey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another guy I dated was protective of me.  I felt secure and loved.  I guess it's something I would ask for in guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is it, that man has been saying that no human could be perfect?  I've not met one but I've heard of a man close to being &lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;perfect&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-8749791023884391511?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/8749791023884391511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=8749791023884391511' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8749791023884391511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8749791023884391511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/01/drunken-times.html' title='the drunken times'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-2608880716032510290</id><published>2009-01-19T11:04:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T12:45:35.787+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Malignantly Inlove</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=frustrated.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/frustrated.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Frustrated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: Bella's Lullaby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="349" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IeT5GOVpX0U&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IeT5GOVpX0U&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x006699&amp;color2=0x54abd6&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="349"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to share that. This is particularly for my sister and family. You're welcome to see if you desire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe that everything happens for a reason? I do. Even if it hurts terribly. I feel like I've known him almost my whole life. I guess I was wrong. Thinking of all the insecurities and selflessness qualities of him made me see the bright blue sky. And so it came to mind at how desperate and illogical I've been thinking. But don't they call it love if your uncontrollable feelings have been more than a mere sense of 4 months? Infatuation only lasts roughly about 4 months. If it exceeds at some point, then I guess you really call it love.&lt;br /&gt;As they say, the third times the charm. The third one's awfully immature if you ask me. The second one's everything I've ever asked for. The bad part is, he's everything a girl can ever ask for. To make it worse, he has knowledge about it. Everyday I've been getting closer to him again. I just hope that we will be as one again. I do not wish that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;this will&lt;/span&gt; be for nothing. There's really no harm in trying. Failure is what you deserve if you do not try at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess life's ostensibly complicated. I have no idea what led me into thinking this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;hah&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Emotional.&lt;/span&gt; Other people would like to call it, &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Emo&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-2608880716032510290?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/2608880716032510290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=2608880716032510290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2608880716032510290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2608880716032510290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2009/01/malignantly-inlove.html' title='Malignantly Inlove'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_frustrated.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-238273541716957855</id><published>2008-12-26T02:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T05:54:17.976+08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Xmas in the US. Happy Xmas to you.</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=satisfied.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/satisfied.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Satisfied&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: Christmas songs on the Radio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have to say that this is one of the best Christmas I've ever had. I didn't realize that celebrating Christmas in the US would mean, "lots and lots of chocolates!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 247px; HEIGHT: 312px" height="1280" src="http://imgboot.com/images/raerangeloff/dsc00287.jpg" width="820" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, was Christmas Eve. We have a small but jolly presentation at the Immaculate Conception Catholic Church. I sang the Psalm. It wasn't that bad. At 10:30, we had the Caroling. It was awesome. We sang and we blended in and everything. Oh yea, Belated Happy Birthday to my mom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 205px; HEIGHT: 264px" height="1378" src="http://imgboot.com/images/raerangeloff/dsc00285.jpg" width="693" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 206px; HEIGHT: 192px" height="1037" src="http://imgboot.com/images/raerangeloff/upload6.jpg" width="802" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;(haha my mom conducting our singing "happy birthday" for her birthday yesterday. haha)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hah. Lately, I've been trying to Drive the Jeep (Jasper). That's what I named him :) I'm starting to love Jasper. He's so awesome and very Unique. He's not like any other car. He's a jeep! =D&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting the hang of it(again). Mom's slowly trusting me again. It was a year back that I was driving a stickshift. Surprisingly, not a lot of people here know how to drive a stickshift. They say they only know how to drive the "Standard" version. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back to the Christmas theme, by the time we came home, we opened up our presents. My presents are as shows...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 347px; HEIGHT: 236px" height="917" src="http://imgboot.com/images/raerangeloff/dsc00061.jpg" width="1153" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 344px; HEIGHT: 250px" height="966" src="http://imgboot.com/images/raerangeloff/dsc00063.jpg" width="1109" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 326px; HEIGHT: 293px" height="921" src="http://imgboot.com/images/raerangeloff/dsc00067.jpg" width="994" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;(yea. My drawer is full of candy. haha. I even bought the chips at an Asian Store.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 342px; HEIGHT: 309px" height="981" src="http://imgboot.com/images/raerangeloff/dsc00070.jpg" width="962" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;That's some big chocolate. Dad says it's traditional. I haven't even started eating it yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry y'all if I haven't been updating or blogging lately. My dad gave a restraining order on all the blog sites here. I'm trying to limit the history by 5 blog sites so that viruses or problems will be prevented from occuring. I've had enough trouble of that already. haha lols.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yea, speaking of Twilight, I'm seriously in love with Edward Cullen. I bought a poster of him at walmart for 5 dollars. hehe It was worth it anyways. It's worth seeing him from the moment I open my eyes every morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 235px; HEIGHT: 331px" height="1371" src="http://imgboot.com/images/raerangeloff/dsc00057.jpg" width="826" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Oh yes, finally, I guess I should show you a picture of our school and emphasize how it looks like high school Musical. Well atleast, it does to me. haha...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 379px; HEIGHT: 312px" height="984" src="http://imgboot.com/images/raerangeloff/dsc00031.jpg" width="1252" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 376px; HEIGHT: 275px" height="974" src="http://imgboot.com/images/raerangeloff/dsc00030.jpg" width="1378" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;a little bit, yea? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Since we're talking about school here, I auditioned for our one act play called "Persephone"and surprisingly got the lead part, Persephone! Even if I didn't audition for her part, (I auditioned for the Prologue and her mother, Demeter) I was so thrilled when they posted the results after the day of the auditions.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 472px; HEIGHT: 593px" height="1419" src="http://imgboot.com/images/raerangeloff/dsc00040.jpg" width="466" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Well anyways, that's about it. You guys enjoy Christmas. Enjoy the new Year. What's your new years resolutions? Me? I'm still thinking. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Happy Christmas&lt;/span&gt; and a &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Merry New Year!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;from: The Rangeloff Family...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 350px; HEIGHT: 278px" height="1059" src="http://imgboot.com/images/raerangeloff/upload7.jpg" width="846" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;P.S. Yea I know. I'm so sabog. haha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-238273541716957855?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/238273541716957855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=238273541716957855' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/238273541716957855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/238273541716957855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/12/first-xmas-in-us-happy-xmas-to-you.html' title='First Xmas in the US. Happy Xmas to you.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_satisfied.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-614217780123636286</id><published>2008-12-13T02:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T02:52:01.888+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TWILIGHT</title><content type='html'>Mood: Great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Location: Computer Class (BCIS)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeay my mom and I are finally going to watch Twilight!  Things have been going well with me today. I’m surprised everything’s going well.  Unfortunately, I still have restraining orders our computer.  It sucks like hell. Meanwhile, I’m updating my blog here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Friday, I got the award of “Gung ho!” for positive attitude and yea.  They announced it in front of the whole school.  I was very much glad.  Not only students get that, but teachers, faculty and staff may get that award too.  That made my day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back to twilight, I just want to thank my friend Grace Mcdonalds for lending me the book.  It was totally awesome.  It left me in love with Edward. It’s a shame I haven’t seen the movie, well at least I’m going to see it after I take my ACT test tomorrow, Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week is okay.  Hah I didn’t realize that being single can be so much fun, in a way it’s lonely as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeay twilight! You guys, if you haven’t read the book, you sure will miss out on a lot of stuff.  I know the book mainly grasps the interests of girls rather than guys, but I’ve heard guys who have a soft side in them enjoy it as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twilight versus Harry Potter? Well I would rather say that they’re both good.  What do you guys think? Please tell me more about the movie. I’m very well excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I got nominated student of the week award.  Ain’t that fun?  I was so glad I was nominated.  I didn’t really want to get that award, I just wanted to be nominated.  They gave the nominees awards for that. It was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m sorry y’all I haven’t taken a picture of the (high school musical) locker rooms here.  I guess it’s kind of difficult doing that since I only have 3 minutes of going to class.  Oh yes, I forgot to mention, we only have 1 week of school left before Christmas break.  I got the chance to talk to PJ Lansigan a few days back and he said that he was going back to the Philippines for Christmas. Crap. Nakakainggit! Haha I left so much stuff there. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s all for now. The bell’s about to ring any minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-614217780123636286?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/614217780123636286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=614217780123636286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/614217780123636286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/614217780123636286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/12/twilight.html' title='TWILIGHT'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-3860693207432256045</id><published>2008-12-09T03:07:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T03:09:17.779+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Only Key</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=working.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/working.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Working&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: nada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just last night 6 viruses emerged from our computer. &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bullshit.&lt;/span&gt; I’m never allowed to near our computer again. Why does this have to happen to me? Anguish filled the house after Thanksgiving Day. The presence of it during thanksgiving was preposterous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my life, my communication to the outside world relied to the internet. Once back I tried blaming it on the antivirus he had and the firewall. What have I got against him? He was sure satisfied with it since he had 3 years of experience of it already. He had Mcafee. I’ve had Mcafee before and to tell you the truth, it was all junk. Every website I turned to gave me viruses. Oh please. Even AVGs free version can do better than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I did all afternoon was blog. Hey, since you guys blog everyday, let me ask you a question. What kind of antivirus do you have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You probably am wondering how I managed to post this. Well, we do have computer class so I managed to squeeze this in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How the hell am I supposed to update my youtube videos now? What about homework? It’s all gone. I guess the only way to settle this is to buy a new laptop. NO! I want to buy a car L&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to give condolence to PJ and Pola Bernabe. Both of whom were my schoolmates at Brent. They had lost their loved ones; a loving mother and a loving father. It was very the very first crash that happened in SCTEX. The crash is all over the news. I may not know hot it feels like to lose loved ones who gave you life to breathe, but I do know how it feels to lose someone who you never thought you would lose. I’m very sorry. If you’re reading this, Condolence. May God bless you both.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-3860693207432256045?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/3860693207432256045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=3860693207432256045' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3860693207432256045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3860693207432256045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/12/only-key.html' title='The Only Key'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_working.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-4725792207700754622</id><published>2008-11-23T11:35:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T12:23:48.113+08:00</updated><title type='text'>hay.. buhay</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=discontent.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/discontent.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Discontented&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: Mario - How do I breathe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been updating regularly. It's just that, going to the computer room is too cold for me to handle. Why is that? Well, the computer is on the second floor. It's too cold. dude, it's like &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;-3 celcius&lt;/span&gt; outside.  Can you handle that? I can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These past few weeks have been fun; too bad, I didn't get a chance to video tape yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I recieved my new P1i phone that I got in the mail. I bought it from ebay last Wednesday.  You know what the problem is? The owner forgot to tell me her unlock code. Now, it's completely &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;useless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Awe. Twilight the movie is now showing.  Too bad for I can't watch it since I don't have time for it.  I heard it's really good.  It's going against Harry Potter. I swear to God I love Harry Potter.  That's why I want to watch this movie. Dang.  I want to read the book. I heard it was 6 dollars in walmart :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week was a normal week for me. It was okay. More &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;flirting&lt;/span&gt;. Lols. You know me. I'm a Gemini :) haha Oh well. I love being single though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did a recent video of me singing "How to touch a girl" by jojo. I know it's old but I really like that song. I beginning to think I should sing "If I were a boy" by Beyonce but I know it's too high. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it for today. I'll update some other time. Chow&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-4725792207700754622?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/4725792207700754622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=4725792207700754622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4725792207700754622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4725792207700754622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/11/hay-buhay.html' title='hay.. buhay'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_discontent.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-6675421396246602601</id><published>2008-10-27T11:16:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T12:00:16.382+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Like it never happened.</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=stressed.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/stressed.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Stressed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Shet&lt;/span&gt;. I haven't even watched High School Musical 3 yet!!!  Somebody tell me the story, please?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot has been happening lately. I'm really sorry guys for not updating. New &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;layout&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; people. Two weeks ago we went to a motorcycle rallye.(Yes it's spelled with an "E") I have a video of it but I haven't uploaded it yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These past few days have been horrible. I met new friends but everything's still horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so stressed right now. jeez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School has been fun. Next time, I'll try to get pictures of the campus and you'll see how it's like. It seriously looks like the school in &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;High School Musical&lt;/span&gt; :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, since I can't join volleyball and all that, I joined Robotics. It's actually really cool. We build robots out of lego and stuff. Lego, as in the advanced stuff :) not where you build houses. So, every Tuesday, I would ride the bus to go to the Junior High to go attend robotics. It's quite cool if you ask me. Every Wednesday though, we go to church and practice for the choir. You guys know how I obssess about singing :P Hey guys, I did a new video. Please check it out. lols&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened to my lifelove? Well, it fell apart. I'm sort of backing away from that. I want to study. That's what I want to do. Maybe that's the best thing to do. But, I do feel lonely sometimes. I get jelous of all the couples that hug and hold hands while walking to class. Oh yeah, did I mention that i had &lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;pregnant&lt;/span&gt; classmates??? I do. Last Wednesday they gave birth. My first classmate gave birth on Wednesday and my other classmate on Thursday. Isn't that a coincidence?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Step-sister Andrea came to visit. She was very nice and smart like daddy. I like her. She has hazel eyes and light brown hair. Nice noh? We took our family pictures in Walmart yesterday in Longview. Once I get a copy, I'll post it here. Today though, we went rode on daddy's motorcycles. Andrea knew how to ride them. I think she's pretty cool. I was towed by daddy. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261673199257159554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/SQU35a3qh4I/AAAAAAAAABc/mUNz7EswsA4/s320/DSC00086.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261675671621355090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/SQU6JVJORlI/AAAAAAAAABk/rS5SNlN55aQ/s320/DSC00087.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well that's what happened. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My feelings toward my relationship now felt like it never happened. I don't know what's with me. I just feel like it never happened. I feel like I've never been with anyone. Anyone except...him.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-6675421396246602601?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/6675421396246602601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=6675421396246602601' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/6675421396246602601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/6675421396246602601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/10/like-it-never-happened.html' title='Like it never happened.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_stressed.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-4513802599955754905</id><published>2008-09-28T07:14:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T07:39:44.349+08:00</updated><title type='text'>vlog 3 and a sad part of my life.</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=sad.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="sad" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/sad.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My lolo just died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3eaaHrVy9Yw"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3eaaHrVy9Yw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;  &lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that's what we did last Saturday. A couple of days ago my lolo died. It's pretty sad because the time we left the Philippines is when this had to happen. We loved him so much and maybe that's why he was still alive while we were there. I can't help but cry when I see pictures of him. Well anyways, I'm glad that he's happy because he got the chance to see his mom, dad and brother again in heaven. May you rest in Peace lolo. We love you and we will always will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://img440.imageshack.us/my.php?image=dsc00004mm1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us" src="http://img440.imageshack.us/img440/2568/dsc00004mm1.th.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="QuickPost" href="http://img604.imageshack.us/content.php?page=blogpost&amp;amp;files=img440/2568/dsc00004mm1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="QuickPost" src="http://imageshack.us/img/butansn.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the last picture I took of him the night we left. He got so thin because he was sick. He looked so happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-4513802599955754905?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/4513802599955754905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=4513802599955754905' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4513802599955754905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4513802599955754905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/09/vlog-3-and-sad-part-of-my-life.html' title='vlog 3 and a sad part of my life.'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_sad.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-7378518013069426829</id><published>2008-09-20T12:29:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T00:53:36.224+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Storm / VLOG #2</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=sleepy.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/sleepy.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sleepy. It's night time here. duh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot has been happening to us. There has been a lot of bad stuff, and good stuff too. I'm sorry y'all if I haven't been able to update for weeks now. A lot has been going on lately. Well you know what they say,"Rome wasn't built in a day." Was that Rome or what? haha nevermind. You get what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The storm hit us hard. If you were listening to the news like every individual did you would know what happened. A lot of trees fell from where they were and knocked down the electricity posts. It wasn't a pretty site at all. I made a VLOG of it again at the very bottom. It's quite short if you ask me. We had to suffer 3 days without electricity. Do you guys seriously know how cold that was? It's too cold here. It's colder than Baguio. haha Anyways, the day before classes started for me, the electricity was back in our liittle house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before that though, we had to clean the big backyard. You've seen that right? I walked through there at my VLOG remember? Basta it's there :) We've been meeting the neighbors too. Look at their cute dog(Sassy) at the bottom:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247961491644253250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/SNSBK_hihEI/AAAAAAAAABE/8I4SpMhTneE/s320/DSC00001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took Rascal with me again. He's such an obedient dog. He follows everything I say :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247961504203445346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/SNSBLuT4lGI/AAAAAAAAABM/1sR9bU0ddmE/s320/DSC00004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm planning to make one of these pics my head picture or something here at my blog. It won't fit the theme, but I'll make it fit :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247961512789189362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/SNSBMOS4ovI/AAAAAAAAABU/GEUoqw_y2Xc/s320/DSC00006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been fun. Seriously. I have plenty of things to talk about but I'm too busy to even remember or start! I'll update this some other time. Meanwhile you guys enjoy here. I wouldn't want to make this long as I usually did. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the video or VLOG that I did. I guess it would be VLOG #2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(video's here na. haha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/k8LPT7U4jPQ"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/k8LPT7U4jPQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;  &lt;/oject&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a Happy weekend :)&lt;br /&gt;Pappy, I fixed your blog. Call me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-7378518013069426829?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/7378518013069426829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=7378518013069426829' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7378518013069426829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7378518013069426829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/09/storm-vlog-2.html' title='Storm / VLOG #2'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_sleepy.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-56032502720313045</id><published>2008-09-11T08:02:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T07:47:21.568+08:00</updated><title type='text'>VLOG / Trip to Dallas</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=thankful.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/thankful.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Thankful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: One Step at a time - Jordin Sparks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="349" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vfET-amJdwo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vfET-amJdwo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x006699&amp;color2=0x54abd6&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="349"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Vlog. :) Please comment :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-56032502720313045?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/56032502720313045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=56032502720313045' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/56032502720313045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/56032502720313045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/09/vlog-trip-to-dallas.html' title='VLOG / Trip to Dallas'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_thankful.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-8695651124073125780</id><published>2008-09-06T05:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T05:58:24.500+08:00</updated><title type='text'>In Korea</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=sleepy.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/sleepy.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sleepy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where: &lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;KOREA &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so sleepy. I almost cried when my family made hatid sa airport kanina. Or should I say kahapon. In a couple of hours I'm we're going to board on the plane that'll take us from Korea to Dallas, Texas. There, we'll meet my new daddy; Steve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually have vids. I'm going to edit it and make it a &lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;VLOG&lt;/span&gt; and actually post it here. Don't worry. I promise. I always keep my promises by the way :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm very sorry to I can't put up the pics that I took on the airplane or here on the airport. I seriously don't know how since I don't have my stuff here with me. It's at my &lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;silver&lt;/span&gt; suitcase. lols&lt;br /&gt;No worries. I'll post everything up in no time :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I go, I would like to share y'all a video that I did with Pappy before I left. It's called "I'm yours" I know you guys have heard of that already :D Well here it is :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NZ9H_gMaoNA&amp;amp;hl=ko&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NZ9H_gMaoNA&amp;hl=ko&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please comment. hehe :) You guys enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-8695651124073125780?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/8695651124073125780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=8695651124073125780' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8695651124073125780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/8695651124073125780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/09/in-korea.html' title='In Korea'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_sleepy.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-5164397271382039367</id><published>2008-08-24T05:04:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T21:43:58.105+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Next Week</title><content type='html'>Mood:&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=sleepy.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/sleepy.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sleepy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have approximately one week left to enjoy the Philippines.  It's a shame I haven't seen all of our famous places.  Maybe one day I may come back here and get a chance to visit them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually can't sleep.  I'm here at my cousins' room. You've come to realize that other peoples' room won't be as cozy as yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried calling pappy up before I slept. Seems that his batter went dead.  I had to force myself to sleep without his night wishes.  Turns out it is true.  The best ideas come from 3 o'clock in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have to say that I would miss every single moment I spent here at the Philippines.  A few weeks back I was very eager to go not realizing how hard this is to let go.  No worries.  I would cherish my experiences here forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I promised my readers, I would post our cover rendition of "&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;I'm yours&lt;/span&gt;" by &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Jason Mraz&lt;/span&gt;.  My apologies, we had some technical difficulties.  We're going to have to redo that song again.  Nevertheless, I will post our "&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;behind the scenes&lt;/span&gt;" pictures on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9824252@N04/2799152285/" title="Pappy and I by raezilicious, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3053/2799152285_7d05e3942c.jpg" alt="Pappy and I" width="281" height="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is our most recent picture together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9824252@N04/2799152887/" title="remote thing by raezilicious, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3189/2799152887_dd44c20039.jpg" alt="remote thing" width="500" height="281" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what? This camcorder is so awesome. Whenever I press the button it takes a picture of us! lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9824252@N04/2799153909/" title="Pappy kiss rae by raezilicious, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3162/2799153909_5b75936bf4.jpg" alt="Pappy kiss rae" width="500" height="281" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG I get so kilig. lols. haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9824252@N04/2799153391/" title="sexy papy and rae lols by raezilicious, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3081/2799153391_5a4bf47f3b.jpg" alt="sexy papy and rae lols" width="500" height="281" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No comment? haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You people have a goodnight, or a good morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching lost at my cousins' ipod.  Anyone would care to join me? :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-5164397271382039367?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/5164397271382039367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=5164397271382039367' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5164397271382039367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5164397271382039367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/08/next-week.html' title='Next Week'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_sleepy.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-7629076652528087023</id><published>2008-08-18T08:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T21:48:58.767+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's a PLOG?!?</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=satisfied.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/satisfied.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Satisfied&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where: Subic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It actually took me months to figure out that &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;VLOG&lt;/span&gt; means &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Video-Log&lt;/span&gt;. haha lols I thought people we're just trying to make &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;pauso&lt;/span&gt; or something. Then sometime last week it hit me. Duh! Video Log? haha Well anyways, I'm going to post a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;PLOG&lt;/span&gt; instead. If you guys still don't get it, too bad. haha Any who...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what? I'm still sick. For the past month I had a cold and cough. One night I was too tired to go downstairs to get a drink so that I could take in my medicine, I decided to make &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sabay&lt;/span&gt; with the ice cream I was eating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9824252@N04/2780533651/" title="Wee by raezilicious, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3277/2780533651_4831c26fc7_m.jpg" alt="Wee" width="240" height="180" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yummy Strawberry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I miss going to Brent. I miss my friends, Jen, Anna, Ah Jin, Migz, Yosuke... Crap it. Dude, I might as well post pictures that I took of them. The pictures I haven't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Plogged&lt;/span&gt;, before. lols&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9824252@N04/2781392556/" title="Ah Jin by raezilicious, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3186/2781392556_07bd2beb29_m.jpg" alt="Ah Jin" width="180" height="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow it was taken May 16 of this year. Ah jin took this herself. She said that my phone's camera is good. hehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9824252@N04/2780534363/" title="Anna  by raezilicious, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3067/2780534363_2559aacc1a_m.jpg" alt="Anna " width="240" height="180" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha Jen, Ah jin, Migz, do you guys remember this? Good thing there's a time stamp :) We just finished our exams. Math was the last exam we had. Right after that Anna fell to the ground and just slept :) She can practically sleep on any surface. lol Hey Anna remember the time when you slept at my mom's office? =P Muah I miss you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9824252@N04/2780535747/" title="DSC00525 by raezilicious, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3079/2780535747_3ca3e30e2e_m.jpg" alt="DSC00525" width="240" height="180" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's just me reviewing for the Science exam a few months back :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a few days ago, my Uncle and my cousin celebrated my uncles' birthday and my cousin passing the board exam. We went to this &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-style: italic;"&gt;Kambingan&lt;/span&gt; thing and I thought it was the bomb. We ate Kambing and it was cool. It's actually healthy for your body since there wasn't any fat in it :) So we went to the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;bukid&lt;/span&gt; to celebrate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9824252@N04/2780531949/" title="DSC00031 by raezilicious, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3182/2780531949_24b6444564.jpg" alt="DSC00031" width="500" height="375" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful grass and sky eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9824252@N04/2780533061/" title="DSC00033 by raezilicious, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3132/2780533061_176113f0c3.jpg" alt="DSC00033" width="500" height="375" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, everyone drank :) Hindi nawawala yun! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Before I go, Pappy and I made a video for our Monthsary. We actually made two. One is this and the other one, well I'm not quite through with it yet :) When I'm done with it, I'll post it :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cYtDGWDmq7o&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cYtDGWDmq7o&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-7629076652528087023?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/7629076652528087023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=7629076652528087023' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7629076652528087023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7629076652528087023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/08/whats-plog.html' title='What&apos;s a PLOG?!?'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_satisfied.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-7571376269005736875</id><published>2008-08-12T22:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T14:05:56.158+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Life Story Of Mine</title><content type='html'>Mood:&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=thankful.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/thankful.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thankful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where: at my bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's a good word to replace memories? I can't think of one in the mo.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot recall the last time I tried thinking back of growing up. Haven't you missed the time when school was only for half a day?  The rest of the day you would just sleep under your mom's desk while she would do her work?  Well that's how I am.  I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth.  Other people just thought of it that way =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the times when we played touching runner (is that how you spell it?) on the sand with my friends in a local public school.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I should tell you the very beginning.  Well here it goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was born and raised here at the province but during my nursery years we moved to Manila.  As all divorced parent did, my parent fought and all that.  My mom go fed up and decided to go back from her origin; back at the province.  Of all the miseries she's gone through, God almighty gave her the luck she needed. My mom got a job at an international school.  She got the job as the head of the Media Center. Not bad eh?  Well that's how it started.  Not a lot of people did have the opportunity to study at an international school right? I seriously was having the time of my life.  I had football for P.E., my classmates came from all over the world and whenever we had sport tournaments, our opponents would come from other parts of the world themselves.&lt;br /&gt;Wow right?&lt;br /&gt;Now what happened?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I transferred into another school.  What school? A public school.  A school where you had to do community service by helping out at the so called "canteen" and sell for them.  A school where there were 50 students each in a class. A school where all the teachers could spank you if you were noisy. A school who even had a noisy list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually didn't study.  How can I study if half of the time I couldn't understand what my teachers or classmates where saying?  Environmental shock hit me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that very incident I started transferring into other schools.  I couldn't find the love, and pampering I had in Brent.  But you know what advantage I had?  I've gone through &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;both worlds&lt;/span&gt;.  What's the difference between the both?  Well it's sort of like rockwell and sm =) get the picture?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I wrote this last night or the night after that. I forgot. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I end this, I just want to share y'all a new video I did at youtube. Please subscribe and rate :) I seriously had a cold when I did this but that won't stop me. lols&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IKx3_lKn6Xs&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IKx3_lKn6Xs&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-7571376269005736875?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/7571376269005736875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=7571376269005736875' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7571376269005736875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7571376269005736875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/08/life-story-of-mine.html' title='A Life Story Of Mine'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_thankful.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-2851503440916309408</id><published>2008-08-10T11:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T13:18:39.719+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Coughing Dirt</title><content type='html'>Mood:&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=thoughtful.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/thoughtful.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thirsty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where: My Room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd place. That's all I've got. How would you feel like if your boyfriend said that he was going to pick you up but you had to wait for an hour for him to arrive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harsh Isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told me that he'll pick me up but I've been sitting in this chair for the past hour.&lt;br /&gt;He treats me like this every time we meet.&lt;br /&gt;I don't think he'llever change.  Or maybe, I just don't have the power to change him.  That's how it usually is right?  Well that's my plan.  Going to the States may only be the option I have.  I won't hurt him, neither myself.  Moving there may give me the opportunity to fade away from his life, thus, leave me in his past memory.  Soon his memory of me will turn to lust.&lt;br /&gt;I hope&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-2851503440916309408?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/2851503440916309408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=2851503440916309408' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2851503440916309408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2851503440916309408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/08/coughing-dirt.html' title='Coughing Dirt'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_thoughtful.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-7174819735666808244</id><published>2008-08-07T19:21:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T20:08:18.686+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Now you see it, Now you don't</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=recumbent.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/recumbent.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Recumbent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where: Some Netcafe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: Nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What has been happening lately? For the past three days I've been trying to call agencies looking for emergency tickets to Dallas Texas. We were supposed to leave sometime this August 7,8, or 9. Seems to be that all the flights to the USA specifically Dallas has been booked. High season is what explains it all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So much for leaving early. A while ago mum payed our tickets. Our flight is confirmed; September 5 in the evening. In the meantime, &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;what the freakin' hell am I going to do here&lt;/span&gt;? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll just go back to the store and count numbers. Yeah. That's what i'll do. Count numbers. lol My job at the store is not as easy as it looks. You're going to have to deal with every single one of the customers' receipt. Nevertheless, it's good that I'm not the one giving them the items. lols =P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;awww I seriously miss djing. Last friday was the last time I did the radio thing. It was fun. Thank you so much Kim for drawing this for me. It really means a lot. I hope we could meet there at Cali when I get there! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231740669843033218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/SJrga5b1TII/AAAAAAAAAA0/WTUWQ4avCeI/s320/djrae.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyways, I guess I'll be staying here for a month. I seriously can't wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="100_3392 by afablegemma, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9836959@N06/1864613961/"&gt;&lt;img height="375" alt="100_3392" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2056/1864613961_468020a65d.jpg" width="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Where's my sis? I miss her so much.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="Steve's house back by gemmafable, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9809894@N03/939582708/"&gt;&lt;img height="375" alt="Our House" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1283/939582708_8a7ab97f19.jpg" width="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;That's where we're going to live :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Steve's front yard by gemmafable, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9809894@N03/751876064/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="Steve's front yard by gemmafable, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9809894@N03/751876064/"&gt;&lt;img height="339" alt="Steve's front yard" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1176/751876064_4e233a2b6c.jpg" width="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;When it snowed :) This is the backyard.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I hope you guys had fun looking at my pics. Enjoy. I'll see you guys later.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-7174819735666808244?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/7174819735666808244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=7174819735666808244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7174819735666808244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7174819735666808244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/08/now-you-see-it-now-you-dont.html' title='Now you see it, Now you don&apos;t'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_recumbent.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-3013179449615485428</id><published>2008-07-30T08:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T09:05:55.088+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Big move</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=rushed.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/rushed.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Rushed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music:&lt;/strong&gt; Nothing. At the library&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's so much stuff I want to tell you guys. Okay yesterday, I didn't go to the radio Station to dj. Sickness hit me. I've been like this for almost 3 days already. It's a bummer really. I don't know how long I'll manage to do this dj thing while having a cold and cough.&lt;br /&gt;Also, sorry for not posting our dj thing before :) I was actually too lazy to do it. Anyways, I also keep my promises. So here it is :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object id="divmp3" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=" height="85" width="325" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000"&gt;&lt;param name="_cx" value="8599"&gt;&lt;param name="_cy" value="2249"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="Movie" value="http://www.divshare.com/flash/playlist?myId=4951844-7d6"&gt;&lt;param name="Src" value="http://www.divshare.com/flash/playlist?myId=4951844-7d6"&gt;&lt;param name="WMode" value="Window"&gt;&lt;param name="Play" value="-1"&gt;&lt;param name="Loop" value="-1"&gt;&lt;param name="Quality" value="High"&gt;&lt;param name="SAlign" value="LT"&gt;&lt;param name="Menu" value="-1"&gt;&lt;param name="Base" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="AllowScriptAccess" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="Scale" value="NoScale"&gt;&lt;param name="DeviceFont" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="EmbedMovie" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="BGColor" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="SWRemote" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="MovieData" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="SeamlessTabbing" value="1"&gt;&lt;param name="Profile" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="ProfileAddress" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="ProfilePort" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="AllowNetworking" value="all"&gt;&lt;param name="AllowFullScreen" value="false"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.divshare.com/flash/playlist?myId=4951844-7d6" width="325" height="85" name="divmp3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you guys don't know, I'm Dj Rae and Dj Staci's my friend Jen. These are one of the funniest things we did :) It's quite enjoyable as you can see :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also did a video on youtube. You guys know the song Leavin' by Jesse McCartney? Well, I made a girl version of that. I know it's not the best but I hope you guys enjoy. I couldn't find a way to make the pitch higher but I guess this will do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7LFxj4U_KGU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7LFxj4U_KGU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have too much free time. lols&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/raezilicious"&gt;www.youtube.com/raezilicious&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, about the big move, I'm not that quite excited. Guess what? Yesterday, I went to click to disconnect our internet connection. Wow. Great right? They're going to disconnect it this August 1.&lt;br /&gt;Second of all, my mom sold my 2nd laptop yesterday. Oh well. I'll just get a new one sa States.&lt;br /&gt;Third of all, I sold my beloved cellphone (k770i) to my sister. haha Well atleast it's my sister right?&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking of buying a new phone here or sa States. Which is better?&lt;br /&gt;What do you think of a n95? or n82? n82 has a better camera according to reviews :)&lt;br /&gt;But you know? All of this is kind of like BIGLAAN. Oh well. Everyone needs a car at the States. I'm getting one (I hope). yeay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grabe&lt;br /&gt;This is the shortest post I've ever written. haha lols&lt;br /&gt;Comment Comment :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-3013179449615485428?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/3013179449615485428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=3013179449615485428' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3013179449615485428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/3013179449615485428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/07/big-move.html' title='Big move'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_rushed.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-195865897552138919</id><published>2008-07-24T21:19:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T21:41:10.572+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jokes at Ebay</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mood:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=okay.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/okay.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Okay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Music:&lt;/span&gt; Nothing. Watching tv.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright. So, I've been going to ebay.ph to try to open and start my own business. I've done this before. I want to encourage people to join =) It's kind of cool. I actually have multiple accounts. hahaha&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I made a new account. One that would suit my store. Anyways, I have this problem there. I had to email the support and stuff like that anyways, I'ma have to wait for the answer tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I tried searching for interesting things here at ebay. I went to the community chat thing and found jokes there. I'ma post some here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A local business was looking for office help. They put a sign in the window saying: "HELP WANTED. Must be able to type, must be good with a computer and must be bilingual. We are an Equal Opportunity Employer."&lt;br /&gt;A short time afterwards, a golden retriever dog trotted up to the window, saw the sign and went inside. He looked at the receptionist and wagged his tail, then walked over to the sign, looked at it and whined. Getting the idea, the receptionist got the office manager. The office manager looked at the dog and was surprised, to say the least. However, the dog looked determined, so he led him into the office. Inside, the dog jumped up on the chair and stared at the manager.&lt;br /&gt;The manager said, "I can't hire you. The sign says you have to be able to type."&lt;br /&gt;The dog jumped down, went to the typewriter and proceeded to type out a perfect letter. He took out the page and trotted over to the manager and gave it to him, then jumped back on the chair.&lt;br /&gt;The manager was stunned, but then told the dog, "The sign says you have to be good with a computer."&lt;br /&gt;The dog jumped down again and went to the computer. The dog proceeded to demonstrate his expertise with various programs and produced a sample spreadsheet and database and presented them to the manager. By this time the manager was totally dumbfounded! He looked at the dog and said, "I realize that you are a very intelligent dog and have some interesting abilities. However, I *still* can't give you the job."&lt;br /&gt;The dog jumped down and went to a copy of the sign and put his paw on the part about being an Equal Opportunity Employer.&lt;br /&gt;The manager said, "Yes, but the sign *also* says that you have to be bilingual."&lt;br /&gt;The dog looked at him straight in the face and said, "Meow."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drunk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill wakes up at home with a huge hangover. He forces himself to open his eyes, and the first thing he sees is a couple of aspirins and a glass of water on the side table. He sits down and sees his clothing in front of him, all clean and pressed. Bill looks around the room and sees that it is in a perfect order, spotless, clean. So's the rest of the house. He takes the aspirins and notices a note on the table "Honey, breakfast is on the stove, I left early to go shopping. Love you."&lt;br /&gt;So he goes to the kitchen and sure enough there is a hot breakfast and the morning newspaper. His son is also at the table, eating.&lt;br /&gt;Bill asks, "Son, what happened last night?"&lt;br /&gt;His son says, "Well, you came home after 3 A.M., drunk and delirious. Broke some furniture, puked in the hallway, and gave yourself a black eye when you stumbled into the door."&lt;br /&gt;Confused, Bill asks, "So, why is everything in order and so clean, and breakfast is on the table waiting for me?"&lt;br /&gt;His son replies, "Oh that! Mom dragged you to the bedroom, and when she tried to take your pants off you said, "Lady leave me alone, I'm married'!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How Sweet &lt;img src="http://forums.ebay.ph/images/emoticons/happy.gif" alt=":)" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men and Women&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God made men and women to complement each other with the unique traits each were given:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOMEN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women have strengths that amaze men. They carry children, they carry hardships, they carry burdens, but they hold happiness, love and joy. They smile when they want to scream. They sing when they want to cry. They cry when they are happy, and laugh when they are nervous. Women wait by the phone for a "safe at home call" from a friend, after a snowy drive home. They are child care workers, executives, attorneys, stay-at-home moms, biker babes, and your neighbors. They wear suits, jeans, and they wear uniforms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They fight for what they believe in. They stand up against injustice. They go to the doctor with a frightened friend. Women are honest, loyal, and forgiving. They are smart-they know that knowledge is power. But they still know how to use their softer side to make a point. Women want to be the best for their family, their friends, and themselves. Their hearts break when a friend dies. They have sorrow at the loss of a family member, yet they are strong when they think there is no strength left. A woman can make a romantic evening unforgettable. Women come in all sizes, in all colors and shapes. They live in houses, apartments and cabins. They drive, fly, walk, run or e-mail you to show how much they care about you. The heart of a woman is what makes the world spin. Women do more than just give birth. They bring joy and hope. They give compassion and ideals. They give moral support to their family and friends. And all they want in return is a hug, a smile, and for you to do the same for people you come in contact with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MEN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men are good at lifting heavy stuff and killing spiders...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another Dumb Blonde&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A young ventriloquist is touring the clubs and one night he's doing a show in a small club in a small town in Arkansas. With his dummy on his knee, he's going through his usual dumb blonde jokes when a blonde woman in the fourth row stands on her chair and starts shouting: ''I've heard enough of your stupid blonde jokes. What makes you think you can stereotype women that way? What does the color of a person's hair have to do with her worth as a human being? It's guys like you who keep women like me from being respected at work and in the community and from reaching our full potential as a person, because you and your kind continue to perpetuate discrimination against, not only blondes, but women in general...and all in the name of humor!''&lt;br /&gt;The ventriloquist is embarrassed and begins to apologize, when the blonde yells, ''You stay out of this, mister! I'm talking to that little jerk on your knee!''&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 Things In Golf That Sound Dirty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Look at the size of his putter.&lt;br /&gt;2. Oh, dang, my shaft's all bent.&lt;br /&gt;3. You really wacked the hell out of that sucker.&lt;br /&gt;4. After 18 holes I can barely walk.&lt;br /&gt;5. My hands are so sweaty I can't get a good grip.&lt;br /&gt;6. Lift your head and spread your legs.&lt;br /&gt;7. You have a nice stroke, but your follow through leaves a lot to be desired.&lt;br /&gt;8. Just turn your back and drop it.&lt;br /&gt;9. Hold up. I've got to wash my balls.&lt;br /&gt;10. Damn, I missed the hole again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me Bite Your Breasts?!!??&lt;br /&gt;A guy walking down the street sees a woman with perfect breasts. He&lt;br /&gt;says to her "Hey miss, would you let me bite your breasts for 100&lt;br /&gt;dollars?"&lt;br /&gt;"Are you nuts?", she replies. And keeps walking away.&lt;br /&gt;He turns around, runs around the block and gets to the corner before&lt;br /&gt;she does. "Would you let me bite your breasts for 1,000 dollars?" he asks&lt;br /&gt;again.&lt;br /&gt;"Listen sir, I'm not that kind of woman. Got it?"&lt;br /&gt;So the guy runs again around the next block and faces her again:&lt;br /&gt;"Would you let me bite your breasts for 10,000 dollars?"&lt;br /&gt;She thinks about it for a while and says "Hmmm 10,000 dollars eh? Ok,&lt;br /&gt;but not here. Let's go to that dark alley over there"&lt;br /&gt;So they went to that alley and she takes off the blouse to reveal the&lt;br /&gt;most perfect breasts in the world. As soon as he sees them he jumps on&lt;br /&gt;them and start caressing them, fondling them, kissing them, licking them,&lt;br /&gt;burying his face in them... but no biting.&lt;br /&gt;In the end the woman gets all annoyed and asks: "Are you gonna bite&lt;br /&gt;them or what?"&lt;br /&gt;"Nah", he replies. "Too expensive"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;I SAW THIS AT THE NEWSPAPER!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TAGAYTAY GHOST STORY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This story happened a few months ago along the Tagaytay Road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a guy who got left behind by a pack of motorcycle riders. The group was large and he didnt bring a cellphone. He crashed his bike somewhere between Picnic Grove and DBP. To make things worse, a storm came in. So he walked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This guy was on the side of the road hitch hiking on a very dark night in the middle of a storm. The night passed slowly and no cars went by. The storm was so strong he could hardly see a few meters ahead of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, just before the junction going to Manila, he saw a car slowly looming, ghostlike, out of the gloom. It slowly crept toward him and stopped. It was raining hard, wind blowing all around you, what would you do? Like you would, he got into the car and closed the door, then realized that there was nobody behind the&lt;br /&gt;wheel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The car slowly started moving again. The guy was terrified, too scared to think of jumping out and running. The guy saw that the car was slowly approaching a sharp curve. The guy started to pray, begging for his life; he was sure the ghost car would&lt;br /&gt;go off the road and he would plunge to his death, when just before the curve, a hand appeared thru the window and turned the steering wheel, guiding the car safely around the bend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terrified, the guy watched the hand reappear every time they reached a curve. Finally, the guy gathered his wits and leaped from the car and ran to the nearest place where there were houses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wet and in shock, he went into a store and voice quavering, ordered 2 bottles of Red Horse Beer, and told the people about his horrible, supernatural experience. A silence enveloped everybody when they realized the guy was apparently sane and not drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About half an hour later two guys walked into the same store. One says to the other, "Yan...siya nga yung sumakay habang nagtutulak tayo..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;++++++++++++++++++++++++++&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that's about all of it :)&lt;br /&gt;haha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-195865897552138919?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/195865897552138919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=195865897552138919' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/195865897552138919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/195865897552138919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/07/jokes-at-ebay.html' title='Jokes at Ebay'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_okay.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-5773981030101423870</id><published>2008-07-19T23:24:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T22:10:46.234+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stop Me From Doing Something Stupid</title><content type='html'>Mood: &lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=pissedoff.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/pissedoff.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Pissed OFF&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music:Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if you've noticed, half of the population is using &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;StIcKy CaPs&lt;/span&gt;! It kinda annoys me in a way I think that that person is being too pacute.&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, if that person tries to write a letter or some sort, he/she will never be able to do it right. People'll learn to type incorrectly. What is up with that? It actually freaks me out.&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying not to avoid as much as I can but seeing as half of the world's population is doing it is driving me insane.  It's not like I can change the world or anything right? Writing this blog will help me feel a lot better, as so also to the people who thinks that &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;StIcKy CaPs&lt;/span&gt; is waked. Well what is up? They're not doing anything to me? They are man! I can't fucking read it!&lt;br /&gt;Dammit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-5773981030101423870?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/5773981030101423870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=5773981030101423870' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5773981030101423870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/5773981030101423870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/07/stop-me-from-doing-something-studid.html' title='Stop Me From Doing Something Stupid'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_pissedoff.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-2356171400934349323</id><published>2008-07-18T16:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T15:18:19.118+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The End</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Mood: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=lonely.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img alt="lonely" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/lonely.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Lonely&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music:&lt;/strong&gt; Bye Bye - Mariah Carey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How come whenever I go back to the store I always find myself crying? I'm at the store right now and pappy's at manila buying a wheel for his bike.  Maybe I shouldn't go back to the store anymore.  Doesn't he know how I feel about bikes? Why is he doing this to me? You seriously have no idea what I've been going through. He's abusing me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what? The idea of us breaking up makes me feel a WHOLE lot better. Good thing I told him that we broke up.&lt;br /&gt;I thought I would cry and feel heart broken if we broke up. Apparently, I feel GREAT.&lt;br /&gt;Just GREAT.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-2356171400934349323?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/2356171400934349323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=2356171400934349323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2356171400934349323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2356171400934349323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/07/end.html' title='The End'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_lonely.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-4673998360737657206</id><published>2008-07-16T19:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T20:18:53.755+08:00</updated><title type='text'>At the Store</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mood:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=sick.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/sick.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listening to: &lt;/span&gt;The sounds of the people downstairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You wouldn't even want to bother reading this. I know I've been emo and whatever today. lol Jen told me. Uh, I mean dj Staci. haha Anyways, this is what I've been writing when I'm not busy at the store.&lt;br /&gt;Actually, this is what I wrote before when pappy went biking:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;July 13, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It seems so sad. Pappy's not here. His dad told him that he wanted to bring his bike at Manila. I feel so sad because it's just so hard.  He told me he didn't want to bring it. Then suddenly, he comes and brings it.  I just feel hurt because of that. I dunno what to do. I'm actually at the store right now; waiting for him. Kanina, there were a lot of people. I knew he wasn't going home at 12. He'll probably go home at 3. No kidding. My heart actually hurts right now. Maybe it's because of this incident. It hurts so bad right now and the other people keeps zooming in and out of the place. Tito's here na. Pero that was 15 minutes ago. What am I going to do? Tito just asked me if I ate adobong babi. What's that? Adobong Baboy daw. Ok. I wonder if I'm right. Will pappy arrive here at 3? I know it's childish but what can I do? My heart hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;After 15 mins...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;it's 1:49 and there's still no sign of Rey. I didn't realize that "sandali lang" meant 8 hours or more for him. I couldn't sleep last night actually. Good thing tito gave me an apple. Eating apples is a good way to keep you awak, and it's a better substitution for coffee, and so is water.  I feel so down reading this. Everything seems to be going so slow. I can't think. Everything seems to be a blur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh wait. Pappy just called. He told me that he was going home na. that lifted my spirits up a bit. Though, it's not enough. I know that this is the very last ride that he'll ever do. Do you think that bringing his bike in Manila would make this his very last ride?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night as I told you, I didn't sleep. I recalled what ate Nathalie said,"Pabayaan mo kung anong gusto niya gawin. Kaya pala siya tumakas. Pabayaan mo nalang siya." She actually does have a point. This is what led me into saying yes. Actually, Tito wanted me to say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;No &lt;/span&gt;to him. I know he worked hard for it but I cannot help but cry. I wonder where he is now? Will he ever realize what is happening to me? Will he ever care to find out without asking? &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;You can't find all answers by asking. &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;All he ever does is ask. This reveals his lack of interest. When will he ever learn the beauty of knowledge through silence?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When do you think he'll learn to learn about his loved ones without asking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Answer: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All he can do is find out in other ways such as, research. Figure it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Question:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Will he ever research?&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Answer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;No.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;I wrote this at my PDA when I was at the store. Currently, I'm kinda sick; and so is Pappy(I think)&lt;br /&gt;I hate being EMO. All of us goes it through it naman. Well, what can I do?&lt;br /&gt;Please help.&lt;br /&gt;Love you y'all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rae&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-4673998360737657206?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/4673998360737657206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=4673998360737657206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4673998360737657206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/4673998360737657206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/07/at-store.html' title='At the Store'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_sick.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-7144095654855091908</id><published>2008-07-09T22:10:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T22:52:42.710+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Will Post When Feel Like It</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mood:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=sad.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/sad.png" alt="sad" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Sad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Music:&lt;/span&gt; What time is it - High School Music 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually have no choice in choosing what to listen to. My brother's watching the teli as usual here.  Why can't Rae post happy stuff? Yea. Sometimes, I ask myself the same question. Well, whenever I feel depressed, sad, or anything negative, that's the time where I feel like posting. Yes, I'm tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappy arrived last night. I was quite happy when he arrived, for I missed him so much. I don't know exactly why he went home. It was his choice to go home or not. Inside I felt that his mom wanted to blame me for what he did. I didn't actually make the choice. He did. Yes, I missed him so much but I didn't ask him to come home just for that. I knew he was homesick but that doesn't matter despite the fact that he is studying. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Study first before Love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I say that correctly? Study first before Love? Well I guess that's true. I dunno what to choose though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning we met and I was very happy to see him. I was at the store waiting for him. As usual, he was late. I couldn't imagine him being late again since I thought he would miss me. Then again, I guess I was wrong.  He was kinda late but it was okay. I asked him to drive really really fast so that I would catch up with the radio station thing. I was 30 minutes late. (This also happened the last time Pappy dropped me off to the radio station. It wasn't the same reason. The first reason was because he really was slow, and the second one was because he told me his mom scolded him for coming home.)  Now, that ain't right. Is his mom not happy to see him? Even my mom is protesting. You know how much his allowance is? 150 pesos a day. Do you think that's enough to eat or go to school for one whole day? I'm really sorry for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the radio station and brought him along.  Dj Staci wasn't there since she had a headache. People missed her so it was good :)  She'll be Djing with me again tomorrow.  Right after the dj thing we ate and went back to the store. I did my duty and so did him. He was playing PSP though. When it got late, they wanted to see &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Kung Fu Panda&lt;/span&gt; at TS but I couldn't come along. Mom wouldn't let me come along. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sheesh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've just realized that Pappy wouldn't fight for me anymore. He tells me that he's afraid of my mom. Well that's pretty unfair. When he wants something, I have to ask his mom for it. I don't have any complains. Nagmumukha nangang &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;makapal&lt;/span&gt; na mukha ko eh. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Craaap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He promised me. He promised me that we'll watch a movie tomorrow. Now he tells me that he's going to go back to Manila tomorrow just because his mom says so? What's going to happen? Dapat Friday na siya uuwi since he doesn't have school on Friday. Besides, he tells me that they don't have class? Puro orientation lang? Why is his mom doing this to him? I know magulo kausap si Rey and maybe that's what led his mom into thinking this. Whatever happened to trust? Can you &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; trust your son?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappy promised me though. Why does he always break promises? I feel so sick of it already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, here is a recent picture of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tinypic.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i38.tinypic.com/2ih8bj7.jpg" alt="Image and video hosting by TinyPic" width="250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We look so happy here.  What the hell happened?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupidy hit me when I reread this post.  Maybe this is just a way for me to get &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;these &lt;/span&gt;feelings the hell out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope everything will get better.&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rae&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-7144095654855091908?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/7144095654855091908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=7144095654855091908' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7144095654855091908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/7144095654855091908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/07/will-post-when-feel-like-it.html' title='Will Post When Feel Like It'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_sad.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-6963649169341166572</id><published>2008-07-08T09:08:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T11:06:04.294+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Multiple Entries</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Mood:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=working.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/working.png" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Working.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Music:&lt;/strong&gt; Listening to bay FM 89.5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright. There's been a lot of stuff that I want to tell you guys! First off, I just figured out how the comments thing at the very end of a post works. Before kasi, I didn't have that. I had to look for it kasi not all layouts have that. If you guys want the comments thing at the end of every post get it from here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what? It won't work. haha Just pm me or something and I'll send it to you =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any how, I'm still trying to search how to get the archives here. As you can see, I don't have any. haha I'll look for it later. I actually have to go to the radio station before 10 o clock. After this I'll go. Crap, the car doesn't have gas! I have to leave early then. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A while back I was texting Russwin, my old classmate back at high school. He alleged that there will be an 8.1 magnitude earthquake thing. Want to see everything? Check it out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Philippines EARTHQUAKE will occur in July 18, 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Brasilian clairvoyant Jucelino Nóbrega da Luz (Wrong spelling: Juseleeno Nobulega DaRoose) did obviously predict many events: the 9/11 attacks, the Tsunami on 26/12/2004 in Indonesia, a further Tremor in Sumatra, the correct location of Saddam Hussein in Tikrit, the wars in Afghanistan and in Iraq and the winning of the soccer championship by Italy. In the end of 2007 he was very precise, provable by Internet for everyone: On December 23, 2007 a great earthquake with a magnitude of 8.5 on Richter scale should shock the indonesian Island of Sumatra. The Indonesian authorities took the warning for December 23 for serious because the Brasilian teacher of English and German was 2 times right with precise prophecies of Earthquakes.&lt;br /&gt;Jucelino Nóbrega da Luz da Luz 38&lt;br /&gt;For scientists this prediction was a good possibility to check the phenomenon of "Clairvoyance". The probability that on a certain day a quake with a magnitude of 8.5 or more happens is about 1:2000, that means 1x all 5 years. The probability that it happens in Sumatra, which is very quake-endangered, is about 1:50. The total probability is about 1:100.000, estimated error about 1:20.000 to 1:500.000.&lt;br /&gt;For psychiatrists it is the question - if a prediction is right - whether all internal voices are psychotic or if there are real voices. A mentally ill can never prophezize an earthquake so precisely.&lt;br /&gt;For Christians concerning such phenomena the question rises, if such messages are of divine or demonic nature.&lt;br /&gt;If you have a look at his &lt;a href="http://www.jucelinodaluz.com.br/cartas_prev2007.htm" target="_blank"&gt;Prophecies for 2007 (Portuguese)&lt;/a&gt; then you find many things which did not happen: For example in September 2007 terrorists should have planned an attack on Rome, in August and October 2 earthquakes in Turkey should have killed thousands and many other things. And this answers also the question of the origin of the prophecies. If you are interested in the predictions of 2008, you can read them month by month &lt;a href="http://www.jucelinodaluz.com.br/previsoes_2008_english.htm" target="_blank"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; - I personally do not believe in them!&lt;br /&gt;If Jucelino Nóbrega da Luz is right there are many evil things in the future. I found the following catastrophies in Brazil &lt;a href="http://br.answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20060818061824AACagKE" target="_blank"&gt;detailed Websites&lt;/a&gt; :&lt;br /&gt;- Earthquake in China on 13. September 2008 with more than 1 Million death&lt;br /&gt;- Vaccination against AIDS 2008&lt;br /&gt;- Earthquake in Osaka with 8.9 on Richter scale and 500.000 Death on 25. January 2009&lt;br /&gt;- Stock market crash in Wall Street in New York on 15 June 2010&lt;br /&gt;- a deathly desease named "Heros" in 2011&lt;br /&gt;- between 2012 and 2015 Explosion of the Krakatao&lt;br /&gt;- A Vulcano Eruption on the canares (LaPalma) with Mega-Tsunami in North- and South America in November 2013&lt;br /&gt;- An eruption of the Yellowstone - Supervolcano also in November 2013&lt;br /&gt;- A catastrophic comet impact in 2019 (I believe extremely improbable)&lt;br /&gt;- 80% chance of asteroide impact (Apophis) on 11/11/2036 (Astronomically seen he will pass already on 13/04/2036).&lt;br /&gt;- Earthquake in San Francisco with 8.9 on Richter Scale on 09 February 2023&lt;br /&gt;- Earthquake "The Big One" on 17 July 2026 in San Francisco with 10.8 on the Richter scale (physically nearly improbable because about 300x stronger than Tsunami quake from 26 December 2004)&lt;br /&gt;Finally Jucelino Nóbrega da Luz prophezises that in some decades 14 Cities remained where mankind could survive. And even 7 of them are in his home country - Brazil. My comment: Pure Esoterics!&lt;br /&gt;But again: Many of his so-far predictions did obviously not occur. Or did you hear anything of a Tornado in Rio de Janeiro from 19. October 2007 which killed Thousands of people? So I beleive that most of his predictions are esoterical rubbish!&lt;br /&gt;If you are interested in divine prophecies please read in the Bible, e.g. Luke 21, 5-37. There are also many prophecies in the revelation of John, but they are difficult to understand. If you want to be saved from your sins in eternity please have confidence and pray to Jesus Christ that he forgives you your sins and live in love and charity to the poor and the weak.&lt;br /&gt;When I prayed to Jesus that he forgives me all of my sins I felt that all anxieties of live after death were taken away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;courtesy by: &lt;a href="http://www.martin-wagner.org/prophecies.htm"&gt;http://www.martin-wagner.org/prophecies.htm&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script language="JavaScript" src="http://www.micropoll.com/akira/MicroPoll?id=97876"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;noscript&gt;&lt;/noscript&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-6963649169341166572?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/6963649169341166572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=6963649169341166572' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/6963649169341166572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/6963649169341166572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/07/multiple-entries.html' title='Multiple Entries'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_working.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-2434884677183096823</id><published>2008-07-01T19:49:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T08:26:11.113+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything's seemingly fine</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mood:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=hopeful.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/hopeful.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hopeful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Music: &lt;/span&gt;my brother singing Leavin by Jesse McCartney&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, what's the scoop? Well, first thing's, we got along. He finally felt the pain that I felt when I didn't talk to him for approximately one day. He promised me that he'll post here; but I'm not hoping for it. I must say, his penmanship is quite alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I slept and was as tired as a pig.  My tasks were a bit exasperating. I actually forgot what I did yesterday.  haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, today when I woke up, I was as weary as last night.  Although I've gotten used to the fact that I have to wake up early in the morning.  Hey, haven't you noticed that I like to post long posts? Hmm... Just figured&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that I went to Brent with my mom. I tried searching online for colleges. You have no idea how hard it is to search colleges at the States. There are so many choices! To my surprise, there's no more proxy. I guess the IT guys disabled them. I surfed friendster until I got bored. After that I went to the Radio Station 89.5 here at Subic Bay... I took a pic...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tinypic.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i32.tinypic.com/2w3zx8h.jpg" alt="Image and video hosting by TinyPic" width="250" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was with Jen and as usually, we had fun talking about all the things that we love talking about :) The only thing different today is, we recorded what we talked about. Ima post it next time when I get the chance to post here again =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the dentist after that. Fabia took out 2 of my brothers tooth. Ouch. haha Oh well. Serves him right. After all that we all went back home. I finally took my chance in doing the song "No Air" by Jordin Sparks which I've been dying to sing. I finally finished it and after this I will be uploading it to youtube. I'll also post it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RYoDjmYZ4j4&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RYoDjmYZ4j4&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="250" height="189"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when it's done. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another good thing happened today. My good friend Ai San PMed me and said that she changed her mind :) Thank you so much! At last, I have something to give to Pappy as a gift =) Thank you so much Ai San if you're reading this :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, that's all for now. I'ma post some more if there's anymore good stuff to talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope all is well.&lt;br /&gt;Cheers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rae&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-2434884677183096823?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/2434884677183096823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=2434884677183096823' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2434884677183096823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/2434884677183096823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/07/everythings-seemingly-fine.html' title='Everything&apos;s seemingly fine'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_hopeful.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168714419683840310.post-1272456972384886187</id><published>2008-06-29T20:46:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T21:43:03.237+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confused Chick</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mood:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://s272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/?action=view&amp;amp;current=depressed.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/depressed.png" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;depressed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: Nothing. Mark's watching TV&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting on my laptop while my little brother Mark, (who is such a brat), is watching Spiderman on the Teli. Alright, I'ma tell you what happened yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, we went to the dentist. Splendid, isn't it? I just thought I'd share the picture of her office here. It's so cute :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tinypic.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i31.tinypic.com/11rd4d2.jpg" alt="Image and video hosting by TinyPic" width="250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not that extravagant but I think it's too cute to be a dental clinic :) It has this cute mailbox and all that. haha We went there because mom wants to make sure that all our teeth are complete and clean :) Dentist appointments and all that are expensive there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I can't stop thinking about Pappy. We did not really have a big fight today but I remained quiet for the rest of the time we were together.  It's just that, I am sick and tired of what he's doing to me. All he does is say sorry whenever he does something wrong. Is that all he can say?  I think he's going to do it again though.  My feelings right now are indescribable.  I feel like I'm having a heart attack with all this pain inside. I keep on telling him but he just doesn't get it.  He doesn't listen to me but instead gives me the puppy dog pout and says, "I'm sorry."  He suddenly hugs me so tight I feel like I'm being strangled to death. Whenever I say to let me go, he still won't let go of me.  My heart is aching so bad as if I want to die. Where can I let go of this feeling? I guess this is the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are no words to explain how I feel. Do you think that this is the end?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;"You took my heart but you did not take care of it. Now, I think I'm going to have to take it back."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Rae&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168714419683840310-1272456972384886187?l=www.auroramartinez.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/feeds/1272456972384886187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168714419683840310&amp;postID=1272456972384886187' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/1272456972384886187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168714419683840310/posts/default/1272456972384886187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.auroramartinez.com/2008/06/confused-chick.html' title='Confused Chick'/><author><name>Aurora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02061343751943808892</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N8xIAbNiFtw/S3yRJzI4b3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/HkqAUwTXO3M/S220/Profile+Picture.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj169/dokahaniyaan/moods/th_depressed.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
