<?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-6252719893014643079</id><updated>2012-02-24T21:50:55.902+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chasing after butterflies</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>72</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-1458456008755388724</id><published>2012-02-23T22:13:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-23T22:26:29.674+08:00</updated><title type='text'>shooting stars and midnight kisses</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;A shooting star, that was his excuse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Hurry, close your eyes and make a wish", he excitedly told her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She thought it was naive&lt;span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;'cause she never believed in such things, but the elation in his eyes made her close hers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the moment she did, he kissed her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br class="Apple-interchange-newline"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It lasted a second or two. But, it was long enough to make her feel jittery all over inside, like the midnight wind felt a little colder, the moon lost its glaze and so did the stars. Her heart stopped beating, then its rhythm changed. It started beating again, not for herself anymore, but for the man next to her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When she opened her eyes, there he was again. Staring at her, with a crooked smile on his ruggedly handsome face. She was dumbfounded. He was amused.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He mildly patted her on the head, and teased her for her blushed cheeks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Bewilderment&lt;/i&gt;, that's all she ever felt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He has kissed a lot of girls, she was aware of that. But he didn't know that he was her first.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was already four o'clock in the morning when she sent him home. He hugged her and then bid goodbye. &lt;span&gt;She watched him walk away, her hands on her lips.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; She closed her eyes,reminiscing the moment they shared together, and a smile tweaked in her sweet,innocent face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br class="Apple-interchange-newline"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ila3hhKWrDU/T0ZLHtaE-SI/AAAAAAAAAcs/GCMFP6tT36I/s1600/star.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 128px; height: 128px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ila3hhKWrDU/T0ZLHtaE-SI/AAAAAAAAAcs/GCMFP6tT36I/s400/star.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5712335773186193698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The night the sky showered the earth with stars, she lost her first kiss.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was the&lt;span&gt; same night she started believing that wishes on shooting stars do come true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br class="Apple-interchange-newline"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Love's first snow-drop, virgin kiss" - Robert Burns&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ps,do you still remember yours?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br class="Apple-interchange-newline"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-1458456008755388724?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/1458456008755388724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=1458456008755388724&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1458456008755388724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1458456008755388724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2012/02/shooting-star-that-was-his-excuse.html' title='shooting stars and midnight kisses'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ila3hhKWrDU/T0ZLHtaE-SI/AAAAAAAAAcs/GCMFP6tT36I/s72-c/star.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-1424597936817347904</id><published>2012-02-21T06:09:00.015+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-21T08:45:23.172+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my 2012 begins today!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Good morning everyone! Yup, I was surprised myself that I woke up early today.:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Exercise with Mama, Papa and Bulet. Breakfast earlier than usual, coffee and buttered toast. Sweet &lt;/span&gt;laughter&lt;span&gt; as the sun gleams. This makes my mornings beautiful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;I hope the happiness I feel lasts the whole day. Haha. No, I hope it lasts the whole year. I thought 2012 isn't my year,but I take it all back. Maybe it started a lil late, yeah it did. But my 2012 begins this February! Just like the previous years, I'm gonna make sure this year would be more fun!:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;This 2012, I only have one resolution: &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;LET GO.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5N3dy6lRHx4/T0LZOmnV-YI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/54l1cJ-gWdc/s1600/tumblr_ltjs79wD791qay5ego1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5N3dy6lRHx4/T0LZOmnV-YI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/54l1cJ-gWdc/s400/tumblr_ltjs79wD791qay5ego1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711366122366171522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;Let things be. Stop thinking too much. Never control situations, especially people. Loosen up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;Let my heart feel whatever it wants to feel. Just go all the way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;No holding back. No more second thoughts. No doubts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;Let go and Let God.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;This is all I have to do to make this year a brighter one!:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 100%; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;(sorry for the smileys, i'm just so happy!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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/6252719893014643079-1424597936817347904?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/1424597936817347904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=1424597936817347904&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1424597936817347904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1424597936817347904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2012/02/my-2012-begins-today.html' title='my 2012 begins today!'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5N3dy6lRHx4/T0LZOmnV-YI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/54l1cJ-gWdc/s72-c/tumblr_ltjs79wD791qay5ego1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-3605453787451532688</id><published>2012-02-17T00:27:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-17T13:49:00.235+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To God be the Glory.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-style: normal; "&gt;My fingers were trembling, my stomach ached like it's bitten by bees, I dunno what I was feeling anymore.It felt like I was about to throw up,but thank God I didn't. Mama,Papa and lil sis were standing right behind me,I sensed the excitement in their breaths.  I scrolled the mouse down, and there it is,&lt;i&gt;my name.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;i style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;I passed the Nursing Licensure Exam. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;I am now a registered nurse.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;Mama's eyes were fast. She saw my name like it was a precious piece of jewelry that glows before her eyes. She pointed it, then started screaming and praying, and jumping and laughing and... oh you get it, she was uncontrollably happy! I've never seen her like that before. Haha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;On the contrary,Papa was just calmly smiling at me, like he knew already that I will pass. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;I felt like crying.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;Yes Lord, I've said that I've never dreamt of becoming a nurse, but I know now that becoming one is not just about earning dollars, it's about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;b&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;eing able to touch other people's lives, and letting them touch your hearts in return.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;All thanks to You,our Almighty Father, I know now that I want to be a  nurse after all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;PS, Only 35.6% of the applicants made the cut. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;A lot of my friends didn't pass.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt; Maybe this isn't their moment yet, but I know that they will shine too, someday, maybe in July, I dunno. Only God knows when. But I do know that God has good plans for all of us. Don't lose hope. Keep the faith.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To God be the Glory! :) &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/6252719893014643079-3605453787451532688?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/3605453787451532688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=3605453787451532688&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/3605453787451532688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/3605453787451532688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2012/02/to-god-be-glory.html' title='To God be the Glory.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-7727621181648413252</id><published>2012-02-14T11:27:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-14T17:23:21.585+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The most beautiful thing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PZur6KeMYRU/Tzon532R15I/AAAAAAAAAbU/gNGXrQmDmNw/s1600/tumblr_lxdgu438vJ1qfmrnbo1_500.jpg" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PZur6KeMYRU/Tzon532R15I/AAAAAAAAAbU/gNGXrQmDmNw/s400/tumblr_lxdgu438vJ1qfmrnbo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708919352843163538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;It keeps memories, it hides scars,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;It carries someone else's heart.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;It bleeds, it aches, it sometimes breaks,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;Only time knows how it mends.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; "&gt;Our hearts, the most fragile thing anyone can hold, the finest gift we can ever give, don't be afraid to let it beat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; "&gt;Take the risk, enjoy the fall, savor every enchanting emotion you feel. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;i style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;Love&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;, though sometimes it hurts, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;is still the most beautiful thing in this world&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;It makes the sun shines, the birds sing, the flowers bloom, it draws a smile in every face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; "&gt;Find the courage to love,sweetheart. In love, magic does exist. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; "&gt;Happy Valentines Day!&lt;span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12px; "&gt;♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; 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/6252719893014643079-7727621181648413252?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/7727621181648413252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=7727621181648413252&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7727621181648413252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7727621181648413252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2012/02/most-beautiful-thing.html' title='The most beautiful thing'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PZur6KeMYRU/Tzon532R15I/AAAAAAAAAbU/gNGXrQmDmNw/s72-c/tumblr_lxdgu438vJ1qfmrnbo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-1050961159942808789</id><published>2012-02-10T10:28:00.012+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T11:00:16.125+08:00</updated><title type='text'>your love only shines as long as the moon does.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We’ve said goodbye for a thousand times, yet as stubborn as we are, we keep on pulling each other back. And here we are again, standing on the same ground.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span&gt;I can smell alcohol in your breath as you spoke, &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;"I wanna be with you"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;I remained quiet. You continued to talk, but my ears refused to listen anymore. It was the same words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;Words I’ve heard before, words I’ve held onto, words I’ve made myself believe in. Under the starry night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;, you said you love me, again. However, your love only shines as long as the moon does. You couldn’t love me until morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Tomorrow, you’ll gonna wake up next to her, and have coffee together. You’ll gonna spend your whole day cuddling each other,watching tv, her head leaning on your chest. Tomorrow, you’ll gonna make love to her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Running in circles, chasing our tails&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;Coming back as we are&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;Nobody said it was easy&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;Oh,it's such a shame for us to part.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;You said you &lt;/span&gt;couldn't&lt;span&gt; lose me, yet you couldn’t let her go. It’s like we’ve both landed on something shaky, that anytime the ground might crack open and swallow us both alive. I realized this a little too late, still I'm glad I did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9H0W0BwMAfM/TzSBX8PMbeI/AAAAAAAAAbE/7ZNhKavg5ec/s1600/001tumblr_ltl0qySF911qe0hneo1_400.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9H0W0BwMAfM/TzSBX8PMbeI/AAAAAAAAAbE/7ZNhKavg5ec/s400/001tumblr_ltl0qySF911qe0hneo1_400.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707328876092091874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;What we’ve had may not be love. But I wanna believe it was something special, crazy but special. It’s something that made me smile, that may have hurt me, but never left me any regrets.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Goodbye”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span&gt;, I finally found the words to say. You were stunned, I couldn't look you in the eye. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;You stood up, I did too. You kissed my forehead, a gesture you haven’t done before. We uttered no words. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;You smiled. I smiled back. And we both know, this time, it’s for good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;(Lyrics from Coldplay's &lt;i&gt;"The Scientist"&lt;/i&gt;. Photo taken from Tumblr. It was exactly two years ago when I first met you, February 10,2010. And today, February 10,2012, I swear, will be the last time I'd think about you.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-1050961159942808789?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/1050961159942808789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=1050961159942808789&amp;isPopup=true' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1050961159942808789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1050961159942808789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2012/02/weve-said-goodbyes-for-thousand-times_10.html' title='your love only shines as long as the moon does.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9H0W0BwMAfM/TzSBX8PMbeI/AAAAAAAAAbE/7ZNhKavg5ec/s72-c/001tumblr_ltl0qySF911qe0hneo1_400.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-8310316144930383659</id><published>2012-02-07T08:38:00.013+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T11:00:24.440+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the sun smiled at her.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OLY-fyCYAfs/TzB-42ZB_JI/AAAAAAAAAZA/678GdXrIhsA/s1600/IMG_0091.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OLY-fyCYAfs/TzB-42ZB_JI/AAAAAAAAAZA/678GdXrIhsA/s400/IMG_0091.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706200243016694930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;She's been spending her days in her room,lying lazily on her bed, eating junk foods, watching movies she must have seen a hundred times. She hides herself from the sun, except for Sundays where she goes to church with her family, praying to God to have the motivation and inspiration to do something productive. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She writes when she's alone, venting out all the frustrations and emptiness she feels, but is too afraid that her loved ones may read it and would think she isn't as happy as they think she is. &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;She keeps her notes under her bed, hiding her real feelings from anyone else&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;. She couldn't bear to let the people she loves share her hurt. She'd rather save it to herself.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A young woman who is afraid to grow up and face life on her own, that's what she is. She claims to be strong. Yet, &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;s&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;he's afraid of changes, realizing that she may lose what she has now&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She wishes to be the daughter her parents could be proud of. She wishes to be the girl who could smile everyday. &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;She wishes to create herself&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She's lost at the moment, but wishes to find her way back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then one fine morning, her father tells her,&lt;i&gt; "Princess, you've been sleeping for so long. It's time to wake up". &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The stone that she's been waiting to fall from heaven,finally hit her hard in the head. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As her father opens her bedroom window, she can feel the morning breeze caressing her face, the warmth of the sun mildly taking away the coldness she feels inside. She feels her soul getting excited to start the day, a feeling she haven't felt for a long time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Come on Pa, let's jog", she says.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Okay, let's go then", her father brushes her hair gently, knowing her daughter is finally awake. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span&gt;(Photo taken this morning, when Mama,Papa and I jogged together-something I should have done a month ago.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&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/6252719893014643079-8310316144930383659?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/8310316144930383659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=8310316144930383659&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8310316144930383659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8310316144930383659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2012/02/awake.html' title='the sun smiled at her.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OLY-fyCYAfs/TzB-42ZB_JI/AAAAAAAAAZA/678GdXrIhsA/s72-c/IMG_0091.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-6727314550080817964</id><published>2012-02-02T21:50:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-03T00:49:54.373+08:00</updated><title type='text'>dear little sister</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry for being a&lt;b&gt; &lt;i&gt;bully&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. I know that sometimes my jokes aren't funny anymore and you're hurt inside, but you still laugh at them and pretend like it didn't affect you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry for annoying you just because I'm bored.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry for bossing you around, like ordering you to get me a glass of juice in the fridge 'cause I'm busy reading a book and too lazy to get it myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You'd tell me that &lt;i&gt;"You were not born to be my servant"&lt;/i&gt;, but you'd still follow every task I ask you to do.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry for always stealing the remote control from you even though you opened the TV first.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry for &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;making promises that I have never kept&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I promised to help you choose a dress for your Prom,but I didn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I promised to bring you to my favorite coffee shop but never had the time to do so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;I'm sorry for making you believe that I meant every pinky promise we made.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry for calling you FAT and STUPID when I'm mad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry for &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;not keeping your secrets&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You trust me to never spill them,but I always end up telling it to my friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm sorry for being unworthy of your trust&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry for not noticing that I was &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;slowly taking away our parent's attention from you.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're the one who needs them more. You're the one who needs to be taken care of.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're the one who's silently waiting for Mama and Papa to recognize and appreciate you. But I guess Mama and Papa aren't the only people who failed to see you. &lt;i&gt;I was blind too&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry if I &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;made you feel like you're just living behind my shadows&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know you hate it when we are being compared. 'Cause you feel like you're not good enough. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;I wanted to tell you that we're not in a competition, and if we ever were, then it's not you who lost, but me&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm the loser who &lt;i&gt;doesn't know how to treat her sister nicely&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm the loser &lt;i&gt;who only knows to how to boss people around.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm the loser &lt;i&gt;who doesn't play fair&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm the loser &lt;i&gt;who couldn't keep her promises&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm the &lt;i&gt;ANNOYING, FAT, STUPID and INSENSITIVE loser&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-khJ3GIZoZHs/TyqrycWgojI/AAAAAAAAAYw/nHZImezH6lo/s1600/218154_1685788746732_1298053453_31539110_6035412_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-khJ3GIZoZHs/TyqrycWgojI/AAAAAAAAAYw/nHZImezH6lo/s400/218154_1685788746732_1298053453_31539110_6035412_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704560761110569522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But even though I tease you a lot and sometimes  make you cry, I hope you know that this loser loves you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;I love you&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. It may not seem like it, but I do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I would do everything for you. 'Cause you're my one and only little sister.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whenever you're in trouble, &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ate would always be there for you&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;. Always.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm sorry if I don't have the guts to say all these things to you personally. :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span&gt;(Photo taken at Boracay Island last summer)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&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/6252719893014643079-6727314550080817964?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/6727314550080817964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=6727314550080817964&amp;isPopup=true' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/6727314550080817964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/6727314550080817964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2012/02/dear-little-sister.html' title='dear little sister'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-khJ3GIZoZHs/TyqrycWgojI/AAAAAAAAAYw/nHZImezH6lo/s72-c/218154_1685788746732_1298053453_31539110_6035412_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-570137005198794902</id><published>2012-01-24T01:22:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T20:32:56.562+08:00</updated><title type='text'>over a glass of frappe</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SfnFtbcwb4Y/Tx2Z4cQ9hfI/AAAAAAAAAXc/EMTgEXN2GGs/s1600/388853_2275127759839_1298053453_32097092_72976006_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SfnFtbcwb4Y/Tx2Z4cQ9hfI/AAAAAAAAAXc/EMTgEXN2GGs/s400/388853_2275127759839_1298053453_32097092_72976006_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700881898259973618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We'd talk over a glass of frappe on a Friday afternoon 'cause we've got nothing else to do. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We'd eat each cake the coffee shop has to offer, we don't give a damn about the calories each cake contains. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We'd tackle about just everything. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;About our Clinical Instructor who was super strict to us but was shockingly nice to our male classmates. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;About the excuses we make to our parents why we couldn't save anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;About the fabulously cute skirt we saw on the mall yesterday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;About our ex-boyfriends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;About the cute guy sitting next to us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;About what we'll do after NLE. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;About you going to MedSchool. About me not knowing what to do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;About us. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss times like this. It's really wonderful to have a girlfriend who's always there when you need someone to talk to.:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span &gt;(Photo taken at Coffee Beanery - a coffee shop that serves happiness.)&lt;/span&gt;&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/6252719893014643079-570137005198794902?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/570137005198794902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=570137005198794902&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/570137005198794902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/570137005198794902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2012/01/over-glass-of-frappe.html' title='over a glass of frappe'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SfnFtbcwb4Y/Tx2Z4cQ9hfI/AAAAAAAAAXc/EMTgEXN2GGs/s72-c/388853_2275127759839_1298053453_32097092_72976006_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-2474411749275641493</id><published>2012-01-15T10:47:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T11:36:33.539+08:00</updated><title type='text'>why i love blogger!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lNfDr79TOJo/TxJJDcJh5pI/AAAAAAAAAWs/69aZZAWXmvU/s1600/IMG_2995.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 252px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lNfDr79TOJo/TxJJDcJh5pI/AAAAAAAAAWs/69aZZAWXmvU/s400/IMG_2995.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697696802021697170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Happy sunday!&lt;div&gt;My family and I went to church early this morning and it feels great to start your day praising the Lord. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love Sundays. It's stress-free. Haha. I feel so relaxed. I have enough time to just do whatever I like. I did some blogwalking and it was refreshing to read cool and interesting stories from different bloggers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know what's the difference between reading books and reading blogs??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, &lt;b&gt;here in blogger, you read real stories&lt;/b&gt;. Real happenings and real emotions that are put into words by the very people who felt it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel inspired to read posts about how they struggled but somehow made it through. I can feel the pain of those who've experienced loss and grief. I get kilig reading my affies' love stories. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here in blogspot, &lt;bb&gt;you'll find different people living different lives sharing the same story. Though you don't know each other personally, you feel connected. And that's what I love about it. &lt;/bb&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;It just feels good to know that there are someone out there who feels the same way you do&lt;/b&gt;. Don't you think so? Well,at least that's what I think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's still early so I'll do more bloghopping later this afternoon. Who knows? I might stumble on your blog. Have fun today everyone! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-2474411749275641493?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/2474411749275641493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=2474411749275641493&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/2474411749275641493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/2474411749275641493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2012/01/why-i-love-blogger.html' title='why i love blogger!'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lNfDr79TOJo/TxJJDcJh5pI/AAAAAAAAAWs/69aZZAWXmvU/s72-c/IMG_2995.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-2906910713484124708</id><published>2012-01-10T23:08:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T23:23:11.115+08:00</updated><title type='text'>lazy bug this 2012</title><content type='html'>Hello people! I finally had the time to blog. Again. Actually, I had lots of time, but I was busy eating, watching tv, sleeping and eating and eating. Okayyyy. So I wasted my first days of the year being a lazy bug. Hahaha. Can't help it. After the NLE, it's good to finally have all the time for yourself,you know. :) &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But now that my body had all the rest it needed, I'm starting to feel the need to be busy again. Haha. It's confusing. I just wanna move. Do something productive. I can't believe that being lazy can also be tiring. It's getting boring. Tsk. Oh well, got nothing else to say. I'll try to post something interesting tomorrow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And oh, i got new layout for 2012. And a new chatbox. Shoutmix sucks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-2906910713484124708?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/2906910713484124708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=2906910713484124708&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/2906910713484124708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/2906910713484124708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2012/01/lazy-bug-this-2012.html' title='lazy bug this 2012'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-4949165892473993530</id><published>2011-12-11T17:51:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-11T12:59:07.840+08:00</updated><title type='text'>no regrets</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;b style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;The good one.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;I've always wanted to be the good one.&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you see, growing up makes you realize that your life shouldn't depend on other people's opinion. Not even your parents'. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;I've done a lot of crazy stuff, some are even beyond crazy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;I said some stupid things, made mistakes, and even hurt some people I love. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;I've lied, even to my parents and friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;All of these taught me right from wrong. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;i style="font-weight: normal; font-size: 100%; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;I've changed&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 100%; "&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; font-size: 100%; "&gt;I've grown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 100%; "&gt;. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;I've learned&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 100%; "&gt;.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realized you have to make your own decision, stand up for it and just be proud of yourself that you made one. It doesn't always have to be right. 'Cause bad or good, whatever decision you make, all that matters is you learn something in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MeQiFodMMiU/TuSKNWmHfxI/AAAAAAAAAWc/W1KdUhF_w5E/s1600/DSC_0718.JPG" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MeQiFodMMiU/TuSKNWmHfxI/AAAAAAAAAWc/W1KdUhF_w5E/s400/DSC_0718.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684820591656795922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="font-style: italic; "&gt;No regrets&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; "&gt;. &lt;/b&gt;Remind yourself that yes, life sucks sometimes, but it still goes on. It's a crazy ride with lots of twist and turn. There's no point in feeling scared and vulnerable. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You may scream your lungs out. You may feel nauseated. You may get dizzy. You may even cry and feel like you're trapped in a whirlwind, but it's okay. 'Cause baby, you just gotta remember that you only have one ticket to life. So make the best out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Mama would surely freak out if she finds out I have a tattoo. Sorry Ma. Loveyou. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-4949165892473993530?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/4949165892473993530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=4949165892473993530&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4949165892473993530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4949165892473993530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/12/no-regrets.html' title='no regrets'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MeQiFodMMiU/TuSKNWmHfxI/AAAAAAAAAWc/W1KdUhF_w5E/s72-c/DSC_0718.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-7891755124868902113</id><published>2011-10-02T01:51:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-02T01:53:28.329+08:00</updated><title type='text'>HIATUS</title><content type='html'>I won't be able to update this blog as much as I used to cause it's October already and I really have to start reviewing seriously. Dear affies, I'll still visit your blogs if I have time. Mwah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-7891755124868902113?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/7891755124868902113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=7891755124868902113&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7891755124868902113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7891755124868902113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/10/hiatus.html' title='HIATUS'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-5977741404616938951</id><published>2011-09-06T21:47:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-11T13:04:27.642+08:00</updated><title type='text'>where you ought to be</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;“&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;I want something exciting! Let me do something BIG&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;!” – These words want to escape from your vocal cords so you could scream at God hoping he’d throw something challenging and new to your life. You feel weak for doing the same routine. You feel ready to face trouble. You feel old enough to experience change. You don’t want the same things. You want to take a step away from the old you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: normal; "&gt;I know we all feel this way at some point in our lives. We all have this huge ego that needs to be lifted up. But then, God knows better. He has plans. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;God even knows we’re impatient. If you feel like you’re at a standstill and everyone’s going on with their lives, it means God is teaching you to wait. With this edginess, you start lighting up a flame inside of you-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;a flame that would be fueled up with your passion and persistence, until it becomes a fire that would stir up your entire being&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;. This fire would lead you to the path God wants you to take.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: normal; "&gt; And if you're obedient, you'll realize that to be at the place you wanted, you need to walk with God. &lt;b&gt;Look up to Him, and He'll guide you every step of the way&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-5977741404616938951?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/5977741404616938951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=5977741404616938951&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/5977741404616938951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/5977741404616938951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/09/where-you-ought-to-be.html' title='where you ought to be'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-542060868948930590</id><published>2011-08-07T01:23:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T09:16:23.786+08:00</updated><title type='text'>never lose yourself.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BKMsrI7WEgo/Tj2HgtiOmkI/AAAAAAAAAWU/0R-KZS7H03E/s1600/girl%252Cheart%252Clove%252Croad-53b1eb06dd1314205b7a10e18777c550_m.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 342px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BKMsrI7WEgo/Tj2HgtiOmkI/AAAAAAAAAWU/0R-KZS7H03E/s400/girl%252Cheart%252Clove%252Croad-53b1eb06dd1314205b7a10e18777c550_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637811304586451522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I guess there are really some things we can never explain. You love him but you gotta stay away from each other.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;S-P-A-C-E.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's something you know you both need... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so you could think. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so you could figure out what you really want. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so you could breathe and find yourself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so.. so.. so.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;you could clearly feel if love's still there.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In love, you share a part of yourself with someone special. You share your time, your efforts, your heart. You let them in. You let them be &lt;b&gt;a part&lt;/b&gt; of your life, not to be your &lt;b&gt;entire&lt;/b&gt; life. &lt;b&gt;In a relationship, never lose yoursel&lt;/b&gt;f. And never let anybody else lose their self in you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love is supposed to take your breath away, not take your whole life away from you. &lt;i&gt;His love&lt;/i&gt; should help you grow, not suffocate you.&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;You give him love. You accept his love. Never love him more than yourself. Never let him love you more than his life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And never let his love become too much it may give you less oxygen to breathe and less space to move. Don't let his love be the reason for you to feel lost.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;'Cause sometimes you walk away from a relationship not because you fell out of love, but because love itself  became way out of hand.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And oftentimes, you have to break your partner's heart to save yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-542060868948930590?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/542060868948930590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=542060868948930590&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/542060868948930590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/542060868948930590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-guess-there-are-really-some-things-we.html' title='never lose yourself.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BKMsrI7WEgo/Tj2HgtiOmkI/AAAAAAAAAWU/0R-KZS7H03E/s72-c/girl%252Cheart%252Clove%252Croad-53b1eb06dd1314205b7a10e18777c550_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-7455594134946338234</id><published>2011-07-23T18:32:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T19:21:34.168+08:00</updated><title type='text'>walk away</title><content type='html'>"&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;sometimes you just have to erase someone from your life completely. it's not about being bitter. I mean, how can you move on if you won't walk away, right?"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Reality bites: No matter how good he/she makes you feel, it doesn't guarantee that it's right. Though we wanna stay connected with someone who we thought we couldn't afford to lose, we sometimes have to take steps away from them, or else we'd lose the lil amount of sanity left in our system.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; It may be funny .It may be weird. It may confuse both of you. It may hurt. But remember, if you know that it's not working anymore, you still have to go. You just have to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-7455594134946338234?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/7455594134946338234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=7455594134946338234&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7455594134946338234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7455594134946338234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/07/sometimes-you-just-have-to-erase.html' title='walk away'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-1471093895620148959</id><published>2011-07-16T18:09:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-16T18:15:41.182+08:00</updated><title type='text'>make a wish</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cwLUcRSf-zc/TiFjp2lMYhI/AAAAAAAAAV8/LbPSFVCMRdg/s1600/tumblr_lljrbhFYFf1qciek8o1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 341px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cwLUcRSf-zc/TiFjp2lMYhI/AAAAAAAAAV8/LbPSFVCMRdg/s400/tumblr_lljrbhFYFf1qciek8o1_500.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629890579867132434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A wish to be happy. To find love. To be rich. To stay pretty.  Haha. Whatever it is, we all have one. I do hope pixie dusts and falling stars could really make them all come true. If only things are just that easy,eh? :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-1471093895620148959?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/1471093895620148959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=1471093895620148959&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1471093895620148959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1471093895620148959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/07/make-wish.html' title='make a wish'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cwLUcRSf-zc/TiFjp2lMYhI/AAAAAAAAAV8/LbPSFVCMRdg/s72-c/tumblr_lljrbhFYFf1qciek8o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-7990435725065901974</id><published>2011-07-07T17:57:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T09:24:41.249+08:00</updated><title type='text'>relieved</title><content type='html'>For those who've been reading my posts, you probably guys know how scared I was before of the uncertainties. I've ranted how I want to be in control of my choices and security is really a big issue for me.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thankfully, God made me realize that there are no reasons for me to be afraid of in the first place. I started meditating and asking Him what to do and where to go, how to respond,etc. But it seems like He always answer me with these two words: TRUST ME.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then, everything started to feel right. Now, I try to take things slowly and do my best to focus on my review. I know He has plans for me, He always has, will always has.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I just have to trust that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not worried of rejections anymore. I realized it's God's way of moving me away from something which is not meant for me. So yeah, I'm keepin my heart hopeful and strong. Actually, I don't know yet which path to take, if I would be able to pursue Nursing because of my condition or what, but I know God won't let me go astray. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who knows? I might end up pursuing my real dream which is to become a documentarist/journalist. I'm just trusting everything to Him. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-7990435725065901974?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/7990435725065901974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=7990435725065901974&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7990435725065901974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7990435725065901974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/07/relieved.html' title='relieved'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-9008938330447272783</id><published>2011-06-27T21:14:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T09:30:39.633+08:00</updated><title type='text'>little angels</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;'Cause in the eyes of the innocent, everything is as bright as lollipops, everyone's happy like unicorns that fly and the earth is a big magical fairy-filled planet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;What a jolly world!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qcFEKW5Z_1Q/TgiMyQmyJ4I/AAAAAAAAAV0/Pyp03WacCzs/s1600/IMG_3841.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 396px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qcFEKW5Z_1Q/TgiMyQmyJ4I/AAAAAAAAAV0/Pyp03WacCzs/s400/IMG_3841.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622898929851049858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Isn't she the cutest kid everrrrr? Haha. Meet B1-my lil niece. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;See,a chocolate cake made her smile this big. Oh the wonder of tryptophan! Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who wouldn't feel great when a cutie smiles at you like this? It's like her smile is secretly secreting joy in the air. Well, it would've been great so we could finally breathe something healthy! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And it would be nicer if all of the children out there could smile like this. I think too much. So yeah, after taking B1's photo,my mind floated again and I started thinking about them- the street children, the abandoned ones. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How many kids roam around the street? The heat. The dirt. The pain. Some of them don't even wear slippers. Most of them are being rejected. Instead of playing, they're begging.  For money. For food. For sympathy. For hope. For change.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just pray that these angels could finally be saved you know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;How I wish big people behind their big desks could see with their big eyes the big truth: There is a BIG number of hungry children.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And it's not just about being able to feed them, it's more than that. It's letting them live in a community where they can grow into the beautiful person they ought to be. It's giving them a chance to develop their talents. To have proper education. To learn. To have a home, a family which would give them warmth and love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;A dream: Let them have one. Make them believe in it. And don't stop them from chasing it.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I pray that all the children could smile like B1. If that happens, the world would be more wonderful.&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/6252719893014643079-9008938330447272783?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/9008938330447272783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=9008938330447272783&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/9008938330447272783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/9008938330447272783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/06/little-angels.html' title='little angels'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qcFEKW5Z_1Q/TgiMyQmyJ4I/AAAAAAAAAV0/Pyp03WacCzs/s72-c/IMG_3841.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-1474903744845599647</id><published>2011-06-23T23:01:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-26T08:34:34.156+08:00</updated><title type='text'>let's all be beautiful</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sYEUuCAqjns/TgNhKaDlYWI/AAAAAAAAAVc/Yk2cGMTtKdo/s1600/Picnik%2Bcollage8.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 330px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sYEUuCAqjns/TgNhKaDlYWI/AAAAAAAAAVc/Yk2cGMTtKdo/s400/Picnik%2Bcollage8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621443591309451618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;'Cause Papa said I'm more beautiful when I smile and I believe him.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Love everything about you. Even your flaws. Appreciate your body. Smile. Then you'll see how beautiful you really are. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We don't need to starve ourselves to look super skinny. We might end up looking like a walking skeleton.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We don't need to put too much make-up on covering our real faces. Simplicity is beauty,baby.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We need to stop letting the world define our beauty through our looks. Seriously.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Instead,we need to start thanking GOD for the body and life He has given us.&lt;b&gt; Laugh often. &lt;/b&gt;Give more. Help others when you can.&lt;b&gt; Love in a way Christ loves you. &lt;/b&gt; Then,other people will see how beautiful you really are. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-1474903744845599647?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/1474903744845599647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=1474903744845599647&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1474903744845599647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1474903744845599647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/06/hi.html' title='let&apos;s all be beautiful'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sYEUuCAqjns/TgNhKaDlYWI/AAAAAAAAAVc/Yk2cGMTtKdo/s72-c/Picnik%2Bcollage8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-4320308809085077389</id><published>2011-06-15T12:44:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-11T13:07:40.338+08:00</updated><title type='text'>psychos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;" We tease,annoy and sometimes hate each other yet I couldn't survive life without them."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_blt_uF-aFw/Tfia9gvEiiI/AAAAAAAAAVU/udVbjwgr1ZM/s1600/DSC_2320up.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 359px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_blt_uF-aFw/Tfia9gvEiiI/AAAAAAAAAVU/udVbjwgr1ZM/s400/DSC_2320up.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618410916694755874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;College would've been frustrating if I didn't meet girls who never left me through thick and thin. Girls who act like psychos most of the time but never fail to bring sunshine in my gloomy days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;You know what friends are? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;They slap you in the face when you're a bitch. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Nag at your stupidity. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Lift you up when you feel so down you just wanna roll over the floor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Laugh at your mistakes and then give you a pat in the back saying,"You messed up,so what?". Help you get fixed when you've got a date. Help you hide from someone you dumped or your ex. Fight for you and call your enemies "sluts". They back you up no matter what. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Friends rejoice over your achievements and doesn't get jealous at your success. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Friends are your soulmates. They're a part of you. And you'll never feel complete without them.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-4320308809085077389?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/4320308809085077389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=4320308809085077389&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4320308809085077389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4320308809085077389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/06/psychos.html' title='psychos'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_blt_uF-aFw/Tfia9gvEiiI/AAAAAAAAAVU/udVbjwgr1ZM/s72-c/DSC_2320up.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-4650008223508206427</id><published>2011-05-08T12:06:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-11T13:12:22.598+08:00</updated><title type='text'>bothered</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SHu7I4VVzq4/TcYXCuvRsjI/AAAAAAAAAUA/9JUNlDx0hA4/s1600/Photo0231.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 334px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SHu7I4VVzq4/TcYXCuvRsjI/AAAAAAAAAUA/9JUNlDx0hA4/s400/Photo0231.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604192121982661170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm never good in figures (well,the drawing proves it). Haha. I prefer to write when I'm depressed. I dunno what happened but I just grabbed a pen and started drawing. I guess when lots of thought creep inside your brain, you do things subconsciously. I never thought that I'd be bothered with silly apprehensions. I've earned praises for being ignorant and carefree for years now  but, but, but, I dunno. I feel really preoccupied right now. &lt;div&gt;Not to mention &lt;b&gt;confused. Scared. Indecisive.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After graduation, I've been thinking on which path to take. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate making decisions on my own. I'm bad at it. Really really bad. How I wish Mama and Papa would tell me what to do. But then, I'm not a kid anymore. I'm 20 for Pete's sake! This is why I hate growing old. &lt;b&gt;'Cause eventually, I have to grow up.  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Decide for myself. Take risks. Commit mistakes and learn from it. Face life. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;I pray for discernment,Lord. Strength. Persistence. Faith.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How about you guys? Have you ever been afraid of the future? I know,it's crazy and hard. And freaking annoying. I hate thoughts like these! :||&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/6252719893014643079-4650008223508206427?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/4650008223508206427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=4650008223508206427&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4650008223508206427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4650008223508206427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/05/bothered.html' title='bothered'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SHu7I4VVzq4/TcYXCuvRsjI/AAAAAAAAAUA/9JUNlDx0hA4/s72-c/Photo0231.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-8165526149702461440</id><published>2011-05-08T11:11:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-11T13:13:07.332+08:00</updated><title type='text'>coolest momma</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IRLlwVCL_cg/TcYN9aKbaAI/AAAAAAAAAT4/VrQVxg83kRM/s1600/mamabangka.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IRLlwVCL_cg/TcYN9aKbaAI/AAAAAAAAAT4/VrQVxg83kRM/s400/mamabangka.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604182134955403266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I've always ranted that i'm a Papa's girl but that doesn't mean I love my mom  less! God knows I love them both equally.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mama's really bad in cooking but I love her still. Cause she's pretty good in everything else. She's great in waking us up every morning to eat breakfast. She's an expert in teaching us to be independent and honest all the time. She makes us feel loved every second of our lives. Yeah,she nags a lot when she's mad but it's better than not saying anything to make us regret our mistakes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And though she's now 50, she's still the coolest Momma! haha. She can be crazy most of the time! I hope I can be as half as good as she is. &lt;b&gt;I could never thank her enough for the love, and for everything else.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love you Ma! Happy Mother's Day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-8165526149702461440?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/8165526149702461440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=8165526149702461440&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8165526149702461440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8165526149702461440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/05/you-know-ive-always-ranted-that-im.html' title='coolest momma'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IRLlwVCL_cg/TcYN9aKbaAI/AAAAAAAAAT4/VrQVxg83kRM/s72-c/mamabangka.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-8257938430466132292</id><published>2011-05-02T18:32:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T11:10:37.871+08:00</updated><title type='text'>hey may!</title><content type='html'>you know i wanted to post photos so you guys can see how my April's been a blast&lt;i&gt; but &lt;/i&gt;I don't really have much time.  Been so busy lately with all the family affairs, beach outings, and let's not forget my completion duties! So I hope May would be nicer to me. Don't wanna be a busy bee anymore. :||&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Btw, news are getting better these days huh? The world stopped as Prince William and Kate Middleton kissed on their Royal wedding and now everyone's rejoicing the death of the public-enemy-number-one: Osama Bin Laden. I must say international news have been good. I do hope I can say the same thing here in Phils cause everytime I watch Bandila, I just wanna turn off the TV! Oh well, gotta go now or else I'll start blabbing again.:||  still have to go on duty. Bye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-8257938430466132292?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/8257938430466132292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=8257938430466132292&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8257938430466132292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8257938430466132292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/05/hey-may.html' title='hey may!'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-127410477778770210</id><published>2011-04-04T01:41:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-11T13:13:48.472+08:00</updated><title type='text'>pocketful of sunshine</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HqE43gIbRbI/TZiz0bBdprI/AAAAAAAAATw/xQ6xqaylMlE/s1600/205711_1668069503762_1298053453_31511974_2866685_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HqE43gIbRbI/TZiz0bBdprI/AAAAAAAAATw/xQ6xqaylMlE/s400/205711_1668069503762_1298053453_31511974_2866685_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591416650568935090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WmXteeIJyZk/TZiz0HYDmtI/AAAAAAAAATo/53m8i-qzdx0/s1600/205686_1666933275357_1298053453_31509638_5594805_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WmXteeIJyZk/TZiz0HYDmtI/AAAAAAAAATo/53m8i-qzdx0/s400/205686_1666933275357_1298053453_31509638_5594805_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591416645294987986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer's all about having fun and enjoying every moment of it. It's giving yourself a break from all the stressful days. My friends and I went to Damires Hills resort to relax and feel the heat of the summer sunshine. After all, the next days would definitely be busy for us. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was great you know to just laugh and talk with your buddies, swim, and tease each other but nobody gets mad. Haha. I want to make more happy moments with my college buddies, so that when we have to go on separate ways in the future, I'll have a pocketful of sunshine memories of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How's your summer? Hope you're all having fun! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-127410477778770210?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/127410477778770210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=127410477778770210&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/127410477778770210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/127410477778770210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/04/pocketful-of-sunshine.html' title='pocketful of sunshine'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HqE43gIbRbI/TZiz0bBdprI/AAAAAAAAATw/xQ6xqaylMlE/s72-c/205711_1668069503762_1298053453_31511974_2866685_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-7235756009252784772</id><published>2011-03-26T14:43:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T09:58:29.956+08:00</updated><title type='text'>blah.blah.</title><content type='html'>Graduation day is fast approaching,baby! I'm excited but at the same time sad. Imma miss my classmates for sure! Time really flies. Graduating from college only makes me realize i'm growing old fast. I'll turn 20 this April but I still act like a 10-year-old girl. Haha. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Though I hate it, i have to welcome responsibilities now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Looking for a job, earning money, being independent- just thinking about it all stresses me out already!&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oh well, I still have to pass my Board Exam and i'm planning to get a high passing percentage. You know I'm not only competing with all the other nursing graduates but with myself also. I wanna see how far i can go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was such a lazy college student and my grades are average and my classmates probably think I'm stupid but the hell I care coz I know i'm not. Haha. God made me smart! Haha. Actually He made us all smart. I guess it's time for me to start using my brain cells. :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-7235756009252784772?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/7235756009252784772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=7235756009252784772&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7235756009252784772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7235756009252784772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/03/blahblah.html' title='blah.blah.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-2168369071935126510</id><published>2011-03-20T19:17:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-27T20:07:26.769+08:00</updated><title type='text'>damon salvatore</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LT5bHBl76Vw/TYXiYzRZXNI/AAAAAAAAASY/zZHx7MZ2I-w/s1600/tumblr_lbsqamj2t11qehro1o1_500.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LT5bHBl76Vw/TYXiYzRZXNI/AAAAAAAAASY/zZHx7MZ2I-w/s400/tumblr_lbsqamj2t11qehro1o1_500.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586119828530879698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damon Salvatore: He kills people, well actually he feeds on them. Annoys them. doesn't care much.  Keeps things simple. He's arrogant but in a sexy way. He has this smirk that makes me drool. He's witty. And &lt;b&gt;he may deny it but he's capable of loving&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vampire diaries has been keeping me awake for a couple of nights now. well, it's all Damon's fault. He's compelling me even in my dreams. Gawd! I wanna have a vampire boyfriend too!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-2168369071935126510?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/2168369071935126510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=2168369071935126510&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/2168369071935126510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/2168369071935126510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/03/damon-salvatore.html' title='damon salvatore'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LT5bHBl76Vw/TYXiYzRZXNI/AAAAAAAAASY/zZHx7MZ2I-w/s72-c/tumblr_lbsqamj2t11qehro1o1_500.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-7761193180310722721</id><published>2011-03-10T20:28:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:03:24.535+08:00</updated><title type='text'>polka dots</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yMMX4wn_nk4/TXjEm4V0HHI/AAAAAAAAASE/0XP1h96B_ug/s1600/blog2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yMMX4wn_nk4/TXjEm4V0HHI/AAAAAAAAASE/0XP1h96B_ug/s400/blog2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582427910363683954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T1mIuIjz5c0/TXjEmid7EMI/AAAAAAAAAR8/lQiJIpTL09k/s1600/blog.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T1mIuIjz5c0/TXjEmid7EMI/AAAAAAAAAR8/lQiJIpTL09k/s400/blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582427904492114114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We've just conducted our seminar about Autism so that explains the dress. We wanted to look fun and colorful and we thought polka dots fit us well. Plus the cloth costs really cheap. It's just 29php per meter. So it's not just cheap, it's super duper uber cheap. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our seminar went well all thanks to our loving Lord. And it kinda gave us more learnings about autistic children who are often misinterpreted and even discriminated by the society. &lt;b&gt;They're not different, just unique in their special ways and among us all, they need more love and understanding. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I admire those parents who managed to raise autistic children. Clap clap clap for them!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-7761193180310722721?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/7761193180310722721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=7761193180310722721&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7761193180310722721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7761193180310722721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/03/polka-dots.html' title='polka dots'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yMMX4wn_nk4/TXjEm4V0HHI/AAAAAAAAASE/0XP1h96B_ug/s72-c/blog2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-4562236202847881511</id><published>2011-03-02T00:47:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:10:37.561+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the real genius</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V7hYf6PGC0E/TW0lpAVeCnI/AAAAAAAAAR0/KozwExWU-Uk/s1600/wgmorton.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 254px; height: 295px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V7hYf6PGC0E/TW0lpAVeCnI/AAAAAAAAAR0/KozwExWU-Uk/s400/wgmorton.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579156899776825970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While assisting in a major operation earlier this evening, I just realized that the greatest thing ever invented in the field of medicine is &lt;b&gt;ANESTHESIA&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;div&gt;Can you imagine how patients will react,while surrgeons are cutting their bodies open, if they weren'r anesthesized? I CAN'T! The pain would be unbearable. And no patient would dare to go under any surgery. That's for sure. Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div&gt;It was my first time to assist in an eye operation and i was just amazed how the surgeon delicately removed the cataract from the patient's eyes. If anesthesia wasn't invented, I'm sure the patient would have freaked out. See? Anesthesia rocks! Haha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, do you guys know who &lt;b&gt;WILLIAM MORTON&lt;/b&gt; is? Probably not. Well, every patient in the world should thank him for making any surgery possible. Cause with pain, no patient could bear to under go any operation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So yes, he's the man who killed pain. The man who discovered anesthesia. the real genius. I so adore him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-4562236202847881511?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/4562236202847881511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=4562236202847881511&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4562236202847881511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4562236202847881511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/03/real-genius.html' title='the real genius'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V7hYf6PGC0E/TW0lpAVeCnI/AAAAAAAAAR0/KozwExWU-Uk/s72-c/wgmorton.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-7776232342643819411</id><published>2011-02-27T17:03:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:09:50.705+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i wanna be forever young</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Can I be Peter Pan's female version? Cause yes, I wanna grow up, but don't wanna grow old. I wanna stay young forever! Things were so much easy before puberty.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wv096UG2gVs/TWoYrHxoGCI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/14Myp1rVgHQ/s400/Picnik%2Bcollage1.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 284px; height: 400px; text-align: center; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578298217552418850" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Life gives you more reasons to be happy.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A lollipop and cotton candy can already make me smile. I got all the time I need to play,eat and sleep. School was fun, not STRESSFUL. I don't have to worry about what to wear, where to go or what to do, cause Mama and Papa makes the decision for me. When you're young, the world just cradles you, and all you gotta do is go along with it. That's it. Simple. No complications. I want that. I guess all of us wants that. Right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;But adulthood? it gives us reasons to be mad, confused, sad, whine, curse life and even ourselves.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S8RzfD0Ca0M/TWoe-MeZpzI/AAAAAAAAARM/FVUGXO7fg64/s400/Picnik%2Bcollage3.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 121px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578305142301239090" /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Growing up is such a tiring process. &lt;/b&gt;Plus, it makes us all look less attractive. &lt;b&gt;So I wonder, is it possible for us to grow up and learn life's lessons without growing old?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-7776232342643819411?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/7776232342643819411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=7776232342643819411&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7776232342643819411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7776232342643819411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/02/vanity-strikes-when-im-bored.html' title='i wanna be forever young'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wv096UG2gVs/TWoYrHxoGCI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/14Myp1rVgHQ/s72-c/Picnik%2Bcollage1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-3439896969960440080</id><published>2011-02-27T17:01:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:10:37.191+08:00</updated><title type='text'>vanity strikes when i'm bored.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pBUFIk5b1n0/TWoiLW8syJI/AAAAAAAAARs/IreKgEpzES8/s1600/2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 331px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pBUFIk5b1n0/TWoiLW8syJI/AAAAAAAAARs/IreKgEpzES8/s400/2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578308666985859218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CMACuXl1ngU/TWohjY0vM7I/AAAAAAAAARc/bUYzwhjTj94/s1600/5.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 357px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CMACuXl1ngU/TWohjY0vM7I/AAAAAAAAARc/bUYzwhjTj94/s400/5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578307980294566834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lMcNuGyImbk/TWohMePp7KI/AAAAAAAAARU/jzcxtncE2f8/s1600/Picture%2B0393.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lMcNuGyImbk/TWohMePp7KI/AAAAAAAAARU/jzcxtncE2f8/s400/Picture%2B0393.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578307586612653218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not really the kind of girl who loves to take pictures of her self, but I guess when I'm bored, vanity becomes a lil fun to keep me busy. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-3439896969960440080?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/3439896969960440080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=3439896969960440080&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/3439896969960440080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/3439896969960440080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/02/vanity-strikes-when-im-bored_27.html' title='vanity strikes when i&apos;m bored.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pBUFIk5b1n0/TWoiLW8syJI/AAAAAAAAARs/IreKgEpzES8/s72-c/2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-8383422417288873741</id><published>2011-02-23T21:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-23T22:14:24.647+08:00</updated><title type='text'>shooting stars and midnight kisses</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; "&gt;A shooting star, that was his excuse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Hurry, close your eyes and make a wish"&lt;/i&gt;, he excitedly told her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She thought it was naive 'cause she never believed in such things, but the elation in his eyes made her close hers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the moment she did, he kissed her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It lasted a second or two. But, it was long enough to make her feel jittery all over inside, like the midnight wind felt a little colder, the moon lost its glaze and so did the stars. Her heart stopped beating, then its rhythm changed. It started beating again, not for herself anymore, but for the man next to her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When she opened her eyes, there he was again. Staring at her, with a crooked smile on his ruggedly handsome face. She was dumbfounded. He was amused.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He mildly patted her on the head, and teased her for her blushed cheeks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Bewilderment&lt;/i&gt;, that's all she ever felt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He has kissed a lot of girls, she was aware of that. But he didn't know that he was her first.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was already four o'clock in the morning when she sent him home. He hugged her and then bid goodbye. &lt;span&gt;She watched him walk away, her hands on her lips.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; She closed her eyes,reminiscing the moment they shared together, and a smile tweaked in her sweet,innocent face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The night the sky showered the earth with stars, she lost her first kiss.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was the&lt;span&gt; same night she started believing that wishes on shooting stars do come true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W21KCUHQ9vA/T0ZASIIYq5I/AAAAAAAAAcc/RxTEsnw5iDo/s1600/star.png" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 128px; height: 128px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W21KCUHQ9vA/T0ZASIIYq5I/AAAAAAAAAcc/RxTEsnw5iDo/s400/star.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5712323857530530706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Love's first snow-drop, virgin kiss" - Robert Burns&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ps,do you still remember yours?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;br /&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/6252719893014643079-8383422417288873741?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/8383422417288873741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=8383422417288873741&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8383422417288873741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8383422417288873741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2012/02/shooting-stars-and-midnight-kisses.html' title='shooting stars and midnight kisses'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W21KCUHQ9vA/T0ZASIIYq5I/AAAAAAAAAcc/RxTEsnw5iDo/s72-c/star.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-4009614741529832309</id><published>2011-02-19T01:36:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T01:59:41.673+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my latest addiction</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BEMjMqRvods/TV6ySm-ctJI/AAAAAAAAAQs/fc5Ub_sn9FU/s1600/john-mayer1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 302px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BEMjMqRvods/TV6ySm-ctJI/AAAAAAAAAQs/fc5Ub_sn9FU/s400/john-mayer1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575089421501117586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all have our own ideal guy and mine is no other than the ruggedly handsome, JOHN MAYER! He's such a dreamy! He doesn't only make good music but is also appealing. He looks like a god when he's singing and strumming his guitar. i could listen to all his songs forever! I couldn't blame Jennifer Aniston and Jessica Simpson for going crazy over him. Plus, I've also read that even Miley Cyrus likes him. She even said she was confident she can make John Mayer a one-woman-man. HAHA. I don't really like Miley. She's not good for my John Mayer. He's too good for her,please. He's mine. Mine and mine only. Okay,I'm dreaming. Tssss.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, just check him out. Here are some of his amazing songs:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Your body is a wonderland&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Heartbreak Warfare&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Waiting on the worls to change&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;No such thing&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dreaming with a broken heart&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&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/6252719893014643079-4009614741529832309?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/4009614741529832309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=4009614741529832309&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4009614741529832309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4009614741529832309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/02/my-latest-addiction.html' title='my latest addiction'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BEMjMqRvods/TV6ySm-ctJI/AAAAAAAAAQs/fc5Ub_sn9FU/s72-c/john-mayer1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-1385592796053383049</id><published>2011-02-17T00:16:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T00:39:23.175+08:00</updated><title type='text'>oh crap!</title><content type='html'>I dunno why but I'm so lazy lately! I have an exam tomorrow and i haven't read my notes yet. What's worse, I don't even care. Haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-1385592796053383049?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/1385592796053383049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=1385592796053383049&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1385592796053383049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1385592796053383049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/02/oh-crap.html' title='oh crap!'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-5263312846861467638</id><published>2011-02-15T18:35:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:13:04.287+08:00</updated><title type='text'>dad-daughter-date!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "&gt;Hey guys! How was your Valentine's day? For those who are in a relationship, I'm sure you had a romantic day with all the flowers and sweet stuff. And to my fellow singles out there? I hope you haven't mistaken February 14 as Independence day! Haha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "&gt;I know being dateless in the day of hearts is probably one of the depressing times of the year for us, but hey &lt;b&gt;who said you can't date your friends and family&lt;/b&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I spent my Valentine's Day with Papa! Yes, he went here in Iloilo to visit his cousin who recently died and he extended his stay here to spend Valentine's day with me. And I must say, Mama didn't like it. Haha. I have always been a Papa's girl and to put it simply, I was super duper happy for having Papa as my date.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hIGd3SBpnGE/TVpeDluZMhI/AAAAAAAAAQk/ZSXTZ9I9yVc/s1600/papappapappapa.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hIGd3SBpnGE/TVpeDluZMhI/AAAAAAAAAQk/ZSXTZ9I9yVc/s400/papappapappapa.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573870904583729682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tXXp_FTwJo0/TVpeDeDBrII/AAAAAAAAAQU/M8_ApNCf5h0/s1600/papappapapa.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tXXp_FTwJo0/TVpeDeDBrII/AAAAAAAAAQU/M8_ApNCf5h0/s400/papappapapa.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573870902522784898" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; font-family: 'lucida grande'; "&gt;v&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "&gt;alentine's day is not only for couples.&lt;b&gt; It's for every person who have loved, loves and will love.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "&gt; it's not just about roses, chocolates and sweet surprises. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;it's about being happy and feeling loved, may it be by someone special, your friends o&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "&gt;r&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "&gt;family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"&gt;Continue loving everyone! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-5263312846861467638?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/5263312846861467638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=5263312846861467638&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/5263312846861467638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/5263312846861467638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/02/dad-daughter-date.html' title='dad-daughter-date!'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hIGd3SBpnGE/TVpeDluZMhI/AAAAAAAAAQk/ZSXTZ9I9yVc/s72-c/papappapappapa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-3783232450425687181</id><published>2011-02-08T16:55:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:14:37.987+08:00</updated><title type='text'>your first.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TVEFwgfMtiI/AAAAAAAAAPk/NBm04qwtybw/s1600/Part%2B1%255B%2528029199%252920-40-11%255D.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 215px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TVEFwgfMtiI/AAAAAAAAAPk/NBm04qwtybw/s400/Part%2B1%255B%2528029199%252920-40-11%255D.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571240544946664994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TVEFwY8TVRI/AAAAAAAAAPc/w_lbd7Dq3rw/s1600/Part%2B1%255B%2528029004%252920-39-26%255D.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 215px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TVEFwY8TVRI/AAAAAAAAAPc/w_lbd7Dq3rw/s400/Part%2B1%255B%2528029004%252920-39-26%255D.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571240542921250066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TVEG7_7BChI/AAAAAAAAAP0/A_u6SEkASoM/s400/Part%2B1%255B%2528029382%252920-39-54%255D.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;They say that first love never dies. Probably. Actually, I don't really know. HAHA. Cause I don't have one. Never have fallen in love, your honor. HAHA. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Your first love could be your childhood sweetheart, that lil boy you used to play with every afternoon or  your highschool crush who then became your boyfriend after you said yes to him through the phone. I dunno. First love has many faces and forms. Yet &lt;b&gt;it's the same love who made your heart beat faster for the first tim&lt;/b&gt;e. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The same love that made your cheeks blush and put that silly smile in your face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Yes, your first love. Some lasts. Some fails. But everybody remembers it, because &lt;b&gt;it may not always be beautiful, but it's still LOVE&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I find it weird for me to talk about love. After watching this Japanese movie, I felt bad for not having a first love. I envy Mika for having Hiro. And this movie entitled &lt;b&gt;"Sky of Love"&lt;/b&gt; inspired me to write this post. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TVEG8IDdyfI/AAAAAAAAAP8/EFvxr-R97Z4/s400/Part%2B1%255B%2528032049%252920-40-25%255D.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I wonder how it feels to have this kind of feeling. I wonder how it feels to love someone more than yourself. I wonder how would I respond to it? I wonder if I could ever find someone I'd be afraid to lose. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Yuck! i'm getting dramatic again. Haha. KBye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-3783232450425687181?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/3783232450425687181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=3783232450425687181&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/3783232450425687181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/3783232450425687181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/02/sky-of-love.html' title='your first.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TVEFwgfMtiI/AAAAAAAAAPk/NBm04qwtybw/s72-c/Part%2B1%255B%2528029199%252920-40-11%255D.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-1426495659640841933</id><published>2011-02-05T12:41:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-05T12:48:25.928+08:00</updated><title type='text'>crazy old man</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TUzVtma_N-I/AAAAAAAAAPE/T1C4uebk2Mw/s1600/pappapapa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TUzVtma_N-I/AAAAAAAAAPE/T1C4uebk2Mw/s400/pappapapa.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570061818535032802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the world might be unfair to me in the future, and no guy would stand up for me, I know Papa would always be there to back me up. I may not find a prince, but i'll always have Papa as my King.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh well, I just started missing my crazy dad again. Good thing he's coming here in Iloilo next week! I can't waittttttttt!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-1426495659640841933?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/1426495659640841933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=1426495659640841933&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1426495659640841933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1426495659640841933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/02/crazy-old-man.html' title='crazy old man'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TUzVtma_N-I/AAAAAAAAAPE/T1C4uebk2Mw/s72-c/pappapapa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-2480998731321908141</id><published>2011-01-27T22:08:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:15:26.649+08:00</updated><title type='text'>dinagyang2011</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TUGAqPgJmJI/AAAAAAAAAO4/ivSw7jGh5No/s1600/IMG_4692.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TUGAqPgJmJI/AAAAAAAAAO4/ivSw7jGh5No/s400/IMG_4692.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566872077610883218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TUGAp0Ca3gI/AAAAAAAAAOw/V2EclY7WgYI/s1600/IMG_4761.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 322px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TUGAp0Ca3gI/AAAAAAAAAOw/V2EclY7WgYI/s400/IMG_4761.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566872070238428674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TUGAptvrfRI/AAAAAAAAAOo/y-sg0Do4KME/s1600/IMG_4706.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TUGAptvrfRI/AAAAAAAAAOo/y-sg0Do4KME/s400/IMG_4706.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566872068549213458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TUF9r0dQjoI/AAAAAAAAAOg/4-dZhjfyIgY/s1600/IMG_4684.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TUF9r0dQjoI/AAAAAAAAAOg/4-dZhjfyIgY/s400/IMG_4684.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566868806175854210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Life gets better when you're out with friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;HALA BIRA ILOILO!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; Thank you,Dinagyang 2011 for the fun weekend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-2480998731321908141?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/2480998731321908141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=2480998731321908141&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/2480998731321908141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/2480998731321908141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/01/dinagyang2011.html' title='dinagyang2011'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TUGAqPgJmJI/AAAAAAAAAO4/ivSw7jGh5No/s72-c/IMG_4692.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-6886349456569729557</id><published>2011-01-16T23:10:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-01T00:01:32.422+08:00</updated><title type='text'>:)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wu9tn_l7bOQ/TygQOKAWKzI/AAAAAAAAAX0/WQ0OB3YEiGs/s1600/251009_1814203517021_1298053453_31710203_5775088_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wu9tn_l7bOQ/TygQOKAWKzI/AAAAAAAAAX0/WQ0OB3YEiGs/s400/251009_1814203517021_1298053453_31710203_5775088_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5703826763454753586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;LET'S CHOOSE HAPPINESS. WE OWE IT TO OURSELVES. AND YES, WE DESERVE IT. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;-I'M CONVINCING MYSELF. HAHA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-6886349456569729557?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/6886349456569729557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=6886349456569729557&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/6886349456569729557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/6886349456569729557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/01/lets-choose-happiness.html' title=':)'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wu9tn_l7bOQ/TygQOKAWKzI/AAAAAAAAAX0/WQ0OB3YEiGs/s72-c/251009_1814203517021_1298053453_31710203_5775088_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-2052611630351501023</id><published>2011-01-14T22:51:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:18:00.593+08:00</updated><title type='text'>love food. hate waste.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TTCBweNzkYI/AAAAAAAAAOI/EGFet_IQf5U/s1600/hunger.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 291px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TTCBweNzkYI/AAAAAAAAAOI/EGFet_IQf5U/s400/hunger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562088209547235714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fact:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/span&gt;There are nearly one billion malnourished people in the world, but the approximately 40 million tonnes of food wasted by US households, retailers and food services each year would be enough to satisfy the hunger of every one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TTCGXPqeIkI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/ehnHX73Aopo/s1600/piles.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 290px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TTCGXPqeIkI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/ehnHX73Aopo/s400/piles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562093273702343234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fact:&lt;/b&gt; Over 6 million tons of food products are dumped annually in California - enough to fill the Staples Center 35 times! Over 1/4 of all food produced for human consumption goes to waste - that is equal to $31 Billion!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;People love to eat because food is luscious. It gives us pleasure and happiness and when it tastes so good, it sometimes give us an idea of heaven. Ha-ha. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;But basically, people eat because food is a vital necessity. People need it.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some people can eat any food they desire. Some people couldn’t even afford a grain of rice. Some of us take it for granted. Some people have to beg, steal or even kill just to have some, not just for them but for their families to partake. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Isn’t it ironic how human beings, gifted with bodies that cannot function without food, often forget its value?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a picky eater and I gobble a lot. But sometimes, I feel like eating more would only result to throwing up. However, the facts I’ve read made me realize why I should never waste food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever thought of the possibility that your left overs could’ve been eaten by &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;famished children? The food you’ve just wasted could’ve given tranquility to their grumbling stomachs. The food you’ve thought your intestines don't need anymore could’ve provided more strength to their weakening, delicate bodies. Yes,&lt;b&gt; these are just thoughts. But these are all real&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food waste reportedly makes up about 12 percent of landfill material. These landfills are costly to operate and maintain. But &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;cost isn't the real issue. Or the only one&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;div style="border: medium none ; overflow: hidden; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I promised myself not to write super duper long entries so I'll end with this plea: I pray people would appreciate more the simple things we often take for granted, just like food. Just because we have more than enough doesn't allow us to dissipate it. Every piece of meat that we put in our mouths is a blessing from above. So let's learn to appreciate and value it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-2052611630351501023?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/2052611630351501023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=2052611630351501023&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/2052611630351501023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/2052611630351501023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/01/people-love-to-eat-because-food-is.html' title='love food. hate waste.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TTCBweNzkYI/AAAAAAAAAOI/EGFet_IQf5U/s72-c/hunger.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-9027990210694600680</id><published>2011-01-14T10:22:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:20:34.181+08:00</updated><title type='text'>our not-so-fragile-heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TS-8sIFFmpI/AAAAAAAAAOA/zeF-_SuypdM/s1600/emo.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 306px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TS-8sIFFmpI/AAAAAAAAAOA/zeF-_SuypdM/s400/emo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561871531094940306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends and I went to a "manghuhula" yesterday. I don't really believe that they can see what exactly is going to happen, i just think they can see probabilities. In the end, it's still us who'll lead our lives. Creepy as it may seem,but this "manang" was really good. She said I was so emotional and that's not healthy for me. True. Very true. Very very true. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I'm not gonna blog about the things she has seen in her cards, instead I'll talk about emotions. Why am I so emotional? I mean, who isn't? come on, we are all slaves of our emotions. maybe there are just people who knows how to deal with it sometimes, and there are also people who could not control it, just like me! Haha.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;But in one way or another, at some point in our lives, our emotions become too strong even our own hearts could not keep it locked up! I think just like ideas, emotions are also powerful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno why but I can be really dramatic most of the time. When I feel sad, I'd grab a pen and just write emo stuff. Haha. When I feel like I've been taken for granted or the world was unfair to me, i'd listen to melancholic songs and cry as if I'm an abused character in a primetime teleserye. Haha. it's kinda embarassing for me to say all of this but it's true. Haha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So manang said i have to be stronger in dealing with my emotions. i have to remind my heart who the boss really is and that's definitely my brain! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Presence of mind and character- i'll learn to develop these two this 2011. Simply because when we're facing problems, we let our emotions reign making us forget that we have an amazing brain composed of cerebellum and neurons who could think of millions of solution. Next time we get so emotional, let's keep this in mind. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon,we'll see that our hearts aren't so fragile after all. It pumps out blood, but what we fail to realize, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;it also pumps out strength&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-9027990210694600680?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/9027990210694600680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=9027990210694600680&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/9027990210694600680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/9027990210694600680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-friends-and-i-went-to-manghuhula.html' title='our not-so-fragile-heart'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TS-8sIFFmpI/AAAAAAAAAOA/zeF-_SuypdM/s72-c/emo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-1949756336673047553</id><published>2011-01-13T20:39:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:21:27.323+08:00</updated><title type='text'>we all have one.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TS8Rd_RAZ0I/AAAAAAAAAN4/3zXHyrqEIBs/s1600/you%2527re%2Bmy.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 254px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TS8Rd_RAZ0I/AAAAAAAAAN4/3zXHyrqEIBs/s400/you%2527re%2Bmy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561683271722493762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I bet you also have one person in your mind right now while reading this.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; the very person who &lt;b&gt;could've been your everything&lt;/b&gt;. the person who should've been spending every day with you. the very person who might have been yours, but he/she slipped away. Probably because of certain circumstances. Probably because you weren't strong enough. Probably because things were difficult. Or probably, just probably&lt;b&gt;  it's just wasn't meant to be.&lt;/b&gt;. O___O&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-1949756336673047553?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/1949756336673047553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=1949756336673047553&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1949756336673047553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1949756336673047553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/01/we-all-have-one.html' title='we all have one.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TS8Rd_RAZ0I/AAAAAAAAAN4/3zXHyrqEIBs/s72-c/you%2527re%2Bmy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-7231999028063424010</id><published>2011-01-02T18:26:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:25:46.445+08:00</updated><title type='text'>young love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TSBXuDsIq0I/AAAAAAAAANo/IGIZyOsNE5s/s1600/IMG_1686.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 284px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TSBXuDsIq0I/AAAAAAAAANo/IGIZyOsNE5s/s400/IMG_1686.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557538388951214914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey baby, let's learn alphabet and numbers together. Let me be your prince on our Prom night and let's go to college sharing dreams of a brighter future. We'll grow up together, experience all the laughter, shits, tears, hopes and lessons life prepared for us. Yes baby, let's grow old together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so sad i didn't have a childhood sweetheart. That would've been interesting. Haha.&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/6252719893014643079-7231999028063424010?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/7231999028063424010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=7231999028063424010&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7231999028063424010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7231999028063424010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/01/young-love.html' title='young love.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TSBXuDsIq0I/AAAAAAAAANo/IGIZyOsNE5s/s72-c/IMG_1686.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-8354188667348983422</id><published>2011-01-01T19:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:25:10.431+08:00</updated><title type='text'>hello 2011.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TR8p0hGF2mI/AAAAAAAAANg/4wuelNioUzo/s1600/Picture%2B086.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TR8p0BCf1HI/AAAAAAAAANY/sE-_EubLg4g/s1600/Picture%2B082_picnik.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TR8p0BCf1HI/AAAAAAAAANY/sE-_EubLg4g/s400/Picture%2B082_picnik.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557206438807327858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you can shine brighter than fireworks if you want.:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New year guys! How's your media noche? I'm sure everybody had a great time. I enjoyed the fireworks. It may be naive to say this but I think fireworks make every new year's eve happier and brighter,won't you agree? Haha. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought our house would collapse coz of the noise. Firecrackers, the sound of Mama's kaserola and the coins tossed by Papa around the house. And of course, let's not forget my not-so-little sister's screams! But all of it just feels great,you know. It made all of us feel so alive. &lt;b&gt;I don't know what's with New year but it never fails to make me feel like I breathe happiness!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; I love beginnings. It makes me feel hopeful. And this 2011, I hope to be a better April. I'm excited to see,feel and experience what it has to offer. I hope this year, I'd be able to find more reasons to be thankful and enjoy life even more. And yes, I also hope I'll find love. Ayeeeee. Nyahaha. but if 2011 is not yet the year for my heart to beat, I'm not in a hurry. Haha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just pray that this year, we may all find the courage to make a new start, the strength to take risks and do the things we've been wanting to do,the heart to apologize for our mistakes, and the humility to be grateful to the Almighty One who gave us another chance to live.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have a blessed 2011!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-8354188667348983422?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/8354188667348983422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=8354188667348983422&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8354188667348983422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8354188667348983422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2011/01/hello-2011.html' title='hello 2011.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TR8p0BCf1HI/AAAAAAAAANY/sE-_EubLg4g/s72-c/Picture%2B082_picnik.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-3807436581729353635</id><published>2010-12-27T14:54:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-01T20:09:31.099+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ho ho ho!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TR8YCp5e6SI/AAAAAAAAANI/u_xfDseUcpw/s1600/IMG_1318.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TR8YCp5e6SI/AAAAAAAAANI/u_xfDseUcpw/s400/IMG_1318.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557186899084241186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas is the best time to be with your family and just savor the moment Christ gave us hope.:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite of all the depressing news and the trials that we're facing, I wish everybody would feel loved and remember that no matter how hard life may be, there is someone who will always be there for us. the only One who will lift us up when we're down, who'll give us reasons to smile and who will never leave us nor forsake us. And this Christmas, let us all celebrate His birthday as we spread love, joy and peace. Let us feel in our hearts the happiness that He has given us to continue living life with hope and faith that every tomorrow will be a blessing from Him-our loving savior, Christ. MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-3807436581729353635?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/3807436581729353635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=3807436581729353635&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/3807436581729353635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/3807436581729353635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/12/ho-ho-ho.html' title='ho ho ho!'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TR8YCp5e6SI/AAAAAAAAANI/u_xfDseUcpw/s72-c/IMG_1318.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-3174068833164576080</id><published>2010-12-13T21:00:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-13T21:29:52.326+08:00</updated><title type='text'>love takes our breath away!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TQYdyavD4HI/AAAAAAAAAM8/2ByJ0suWlcE/s1600/wedding2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TQYdyavD4HI/AAAAAAAAAM8/2ByJ0suWlcE/s400/wedding2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550156342788087922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TQYdybp4dYI/AAAAAAAAAM0/3E93e4n_BvA/s1600/wedding1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TQYdybp4dYI/AAAAAAAAAM0/3E93e4n_BvA/s400/wedding1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550156343034803586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always think weddings are magical. You know, two people vowing before the Lord to love each other forever-it's lovely! Last December 11,2010, my beloved room mate Ate Daisy,now Mrs. Daisy Valencia Hortinela was wed to her long time boyfriend. We were so happy for her. The wedding was wonderful! She looks so beautiful in her white gown. Everybody can tell that she is really in love!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-3174068833164576080?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/3174068833164576080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=3174068833164576080&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/3174068833164576080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/3174068833164576080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/12/love-takes-our-breath-away.html' title='love takes our breath away!'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TQYdyavD4HI/AAAAAAAAAM8/2ByJ0suWlcE/s72-c/wedding2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-4193231529291468002</id><published>2010-12-09T00:09:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-09T00:32:23.064+08:00</updated><title type='text'>brighter than stars</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TP-v0ieOLsI/AAAAAAAAAMs/Be4OdfLkVrI/s1600/01-2009-safari-cpu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TP-v0ieOLsI/AAAAAAAAAMs/Be4OdfLkVrI/s400/01-2009-safari-cpu.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548346583085362882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Was it because of the Christmas lights or my world just turns bright each time I see you? I hope you know you have that effect on me,boy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas lights in our school make every Centralian feel that in our little troubled world,there is still light. We may batter ourselves 11months a year, DECEMBER will still give us a break and if we'll only let ourselves enjoy,we'll all agree that Christmas is indeed the happiest day ever!&lt;br /&gt;I saw the guy I've been crushing on for 3 years now last Monday. And I don't know. Was it just me or does he really spark brighter than the moon?:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-4193231529291468002?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/4193231529291468002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=4193231529291468002&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4193231529291468002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4193231529291468002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/12/brighter-than-stars.html' title='brighter than stars'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TP-v0ieOLsI/AAAAAAAAAMs/Be4OdfLkVrI/s72-c/01-2009-safari-cpu.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-8900774404886268379</id><published>2010-12-06T12:21:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T14:47:49.117+08:00</updated><title type='text'>let the good times roll</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TPxpntZ2X8I/AAAAAAAAAMc/XFPxORlT5h4/s1600/blo3.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TPxpntZ2X8I/AAAAAAAAAMc/XFPxORlT5h4/s400/blo3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547424971937439682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;with my girl buddies Arnee,Colen, Shobe and Jazzie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TPxpmyvAMkI/AAAAAAAAAMM/NCNjk0tobEE/s1600/blo1.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TPxpmyvAMkI/AAAAAAAAAMM/NCNjk0tobEE/s400/blo1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547424956188471874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Rb and the most thoughtful and sweetest girlfriend on earth,Colen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Rb turned 18 last night so Colen called it as his "NON-MINOR DAY". It was a blast! Colen prepared a surprise for him. You know,balloons,roses,wine and stuff. I think rb's really lucky to have my dear friend as his girlfriend. We all had fun that night. Can't wait for Shobe's birthday on the 10th. Haha! I CAN FEEL THIS YEAR'S DECEMBER WILL BE WONDERFUL.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-8900774404886268379?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/8900774404886268379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=8900774404886268379&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8900774404886268379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8900774404886268379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/12/let-good-times-roll.html' title='let the good times roll'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TPxpntZ2X8I/AAAAAAAAAMc/XFPxORlT5h4/s72-c/blo3.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-3233635939107647772</id><published>2010-12-02T23:00:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-02T23:51:18.672+08:00</updated><title type='text'>go spin the wheel.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TPe77Zjk06I/AAAAAAAAALk/a_Dm1dDmbyE/s1600/kuliglig.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TPe77Zjk06I/AAAAAAAAALk/a_Dm1dDmbyE/s400/kuliglig.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546108095276831650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Magnanakaw kami dati. 'Yung iba sa amin nagbebenta ng drugs. Pero nagsikap kaming magbagong buhay at maghanap-buhay. Tapos ngayon,pagbabawalan kaming magtrabaho? Kung ganyan din lang,pasensiyahan na lang tayo".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a striking statement from a 'kuliglig driver'. I think they should continue standing firm on their grounds. They do have a point. Looking for an honest job here in the Phil is like looking for a clean tissue in a garbage pile! So I truthfully admire these kuliglig drivers who may not be well-educated and probably smell bad yet they have made use of their bodies to earn money without breaking any law. Oh well, news like this makes me feel how pitiful most of us are. And that ain't good. Tsk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-3233635939107647772?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/3233635939107647772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=3233635939107647772&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/3233635939107647772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/3233635939107647772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/12/go-spin-wheel.html' title='go spin the wheel.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TPe77Zjk06I/AAAAAAAAALk/a_Dm1dDmbyE/s72-c/kuliglig.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-4160965645087765550</id><published>2010-12-01T22:37:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-02T01:01:55.220+08:00</updated><title type='text'>priceless.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TPZr0emLkqI/AAAAAAAAALc/1k2T8fS7MKI/s1600/pickyshades.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TPZr0emLkqI/AAAAAAAAALc/1k2T8fS7MKI/s400/pickyshades.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545738540463919778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Best shades ever. :)&lt;br /&gt;Laughing with friends until your cheeks hurt-these moments are truly priceless.&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/6252719893014643079-4160965645087765550?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/4160965645087765550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=4160965645087765550&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4160965645087765550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4160965645087765550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/12/priceless.html' title='priceless.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TPZr0emLkqI/AAAAAAAAALc/1k2T8fS7MKI/s72-c/pickyshades.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-6897127876693897681</id><published>2010-11-02T07:19:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T14:49:44.694+08:00</updated><title type='text'>long weekend.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TM6y6GiGL4I/AAAAAAAAAKc/l5zFXPjq6rc/s1600/10302010%28011%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TM6y6GiGL4I/AAAAAAAAAKc/l5zFXPjq6rc/s320/10302010%28011%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534557703340699522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;me and bulet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TM9Rk1_oTyI/AAAAAAAAAK0/E3zbzCeqePo/s1600/HPIM4212.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 241px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TM9Rk1_oTyI/AAAAAAAAAK0/E3zbzCeqePo/s320/HPIM4212.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534732160472731426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The statue of divine Mercy.&lt;br /&gt;It takes 80 steps to get up there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My family went on a vacation with some friends this weekend. We went to  Cagayan de Oro to Iligan City to Ozamiz City to Mizamiz City and  Oroqueta. We traveled for 12hours but it's all worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I wasn't able to do my daily blog list. Haha. Oh well, I'll still blog about the remaining 10 topics. :) I'll go back to Iloilo tomorrow. It kinda feels weird coz I've been only home for 8 days and I wanna stay longer. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/6252719893014643079-6897127876693897681?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/6897127876693897681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=6897127876693897681&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/6897127876693897681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/6897127876693897681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/11/long-weekend.html' title='long weekend.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TM6y6GiGL4I/AAAAAAAAAKc/l5zFXPjq6rc/s72-c/10302010%28011%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-1894705003787230668</id><published>2010-10-27T09:52:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T10:10:24.178+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 5: I'd go for someone...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;i love.&lt;span style="padding: 4px; background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: medium none; font: 9pt/100% lucida sans; letter-spacing: 1px; cursor: pointer; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(136, 136, 136);"&gt;♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TMeJoXdLIaI/AAAAAAAAAKU/-Tw36DvjF7c/s1600/bblog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 273px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TMeJoXdLIaI/AAAAAAAAAKU/-Tw36DvjF7c/s320/bblog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532541993832096162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things may be easier if you choose to be with someone who loves you more than you love him. But I don't wanna be in that position. Aside from the fact that I get bored easily, I feel the need to be honest to that person and to myself. Yes it is easier. But that's just it. Easy. And what gain can you get from it? You'll not just hurt the guy but also yourself and nobody wants that,right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a lil girl, I loved watching fairy tales hoping that someday,a prince would come to my rescue. But when I grew up, I realized that fairy tales are way way different from reality. Fairy godmothers, magic lamp, fancy glass slippers, magic beanstalk - THEY DON'T EXIST. You need a friend who'll help you out when you're in mess. You need prayers to make your wishes come true. Shoes are just shoes,it's still your feet that will lead you to your goal.  And if you wanna reach the top, you need to climb the stairs to learn hard work and determination. But what's the only thing in fairy tales that I know for sure is real? &lt;b&gt;LOVE. TRUE LOVE.&lt;/b&gt; Love that conquers evil stepmothers and ugly sea creatures. LOVE that makes every fairy tale magical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, I wanna experience that love but that wouldn't be possible if I'm not with the person whom my heart desires. I know that I might get hurt and cry but like what PEYTON of ONE TREE HILL once said, &lt;i&gt;"when you're in love,then that's how you'll know you're alive"&lt;/i&gt;. I wanna experience that feeling. I wanna experience everything love has to give. Blush in the cheek. Smiling without reasons. The funny tingling sensation you feel when you stare at him. Even heartbreaks and hurtful arguments.  I wanna experience it all for me to understand why people say that love makes everything feel aright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when the time comes that GOD would finally lead me to him, I'd go all the way for him. Hahaha. I'd take every chances,everything! Even if it scars me. Cuz I believe that the pain I might feel is nothing compared to the regret I'll haveif I walk away from love. &lt;span style="padding: 4px; background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: medium none; font: 9pt/100% lucida sans; letter-spacing: 1px; cursor: pointer; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(136, 136, 136);"&gt;♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="padding: 4px; background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: medium none; font: 9pt/100% lucida sans; letter-spacing: 1px; cursor: pointer; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(136, 136, 136);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-1894705003787230668?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/1894705003787230668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=1894705003787230668&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1894705003787230668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1894705003787230668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-5-id-go-for-someone_27.html' title='Day 5: I&apos;d go for someone...'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TMeJoXdLIaI/AAAAAAAAAKU/-Tw36DvjF7c/s72-c/bblog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-3965569104208178336</id><published>2010-10-24T09:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T14:01:42.142+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 4: Your pet peeve.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TMPFGk2K3ZI/AAAAAAAAAKE/LMqmACFrj1U/s1600/ttttttttice.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 434px; height: 338px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TMPFGk2K3ZI/AAAAAAAAAKE/LMqmACFrj1U/s320/ttttttttice.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531481484101868946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;If there's one thing that annoys me the most, it'll be &lt;u&gt;hypocrites&lt;/u&gt;. They're so irritating,not to mention funny.  They're like clowns,only without make-up on. They keep on talking and talking ill about other people when they can actually say the same words to the very face they see in the mirror. Hypocrisy is such a fun game but it's not worth playing. Really really not worth playing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-3965569104208178336?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/3965569104208178336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=3965569104208178336&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/3965569104208178336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/3965569104208178336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-4-your-pet-peeve.html' title='Day 4: Your pet peeve.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TMPFGk2K3ZI/AAAAAAAAAKE/LMqmACFrj1U/s72-c/ttttttttice.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-710674140888819166</id><published>2010-10-23T12:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T13:57:12.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3:If I have a time machine..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I would go back to my high school years. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TMMf4Yvd6VI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/UUsUyhyM-ow/s1600/lalalalalakkakakaka.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 515px; height: 403px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TMMf4Yvd6VI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/UUsUyhyM-ow/s320/lalalalalakkakakaka.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531299820915779922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess what makes my high school days oh-so-memorable are the people I've spent it with. The friends I've met who &lt;u&gt;grew up with me&lt;/u&gt;. The very people who witnessed how a playful lil girl turned into a young woman. They say, &lt;i&gt;"your college friends may know who you are but your highschool friends know why you're like that".&lt;/i&gt; Looking back, I find it funny realizing that I may have changed a little but I am still the same dramatic and idealistic high school girl three years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten-minute-ride to school. Silent chikahan during flag ceremony. Endless and funny talks with girl friends. Tuna sandwich paired with coke in the canteen. Cramming over exams in Physics. Cheering for our boy's soccer team. Laughing over not-so-funny jokes. Camping. Happy joyrides. Blushing whenever I see my crush. Press Conferences and sleepovers. Hanging out at the dam. Unplanned adventures at the Banban Falls. Riding a carabao. Wearing the green and white uniform. And most of all, being with the people who I love. I miss all of it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if only time machines exist, I would go back there and let myself experience again the thrill and fun high school life has to offer. I wanna let the carefree girl inside of me out again. But even if it's not possible, it's okay. Because I have lots of lots of good memories that I could keep on remembering and remembering and remembering and remembering. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-710674140888819166?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/710674140888819166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=710674140888819166&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/710674140888819166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/710674140888819166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-3if-i-have-time-machine.html' title='Day 3:If I have a time machine..'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TMMf4Yvd6VI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/UUsUyhyM-ow/s72-c/lalalalalakkakakaka.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-8465091717092142308</id><published>2010-10-22T19:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T13:53:58.338+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2: are you proud to be a filipino?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TMMOBFOzdhI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/OPIYDzQywTE/s1600/tongueout.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 351px; height: 416px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TMMOBFOzdhI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/OPIYDzQywTE/s320/tongueout.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531280179088029202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terrorism. Poverty. Corruption. Prostitution. Most dangerous nation in Asia. A third world country. This is Philippines. I know, it's hard to be a Filipino. We wake up everyday with an invisible note on our forehead that says,&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt; "I have a God-knows-how-much-debt-to-the-world-bank."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; We can hear in the news how guns and bombs create fear not just in every Filipino's heart but also to the other races who comes and goes in our country. We have public officials who are known to be corrupt yet they're still in power. We look up to the other nations and bow down to them while they look down on us. Thoughts like these make me feel less dignified as a Filipino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times, I wonder why God made me a Filipina. I could've been born with almond-shaped eyes and porcelain skin as a Japanese woman. That would've been nice! Haha. But then, If God did make me Japanese or American or Spaniard or Jamaican,then I would have not learned how to be hospitable to other people. I would have not learned the real meaning of humility and hard work. I wouldn't be as faithful to God as I am now. I would have not learned how to love wholeheartedly the flaws and imperfections of my country. I would have not learned how to believe that hope is still on its way to the Philippines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it may be hard to believe,but yes, I am proud to be Filipina because I know that only Pinays can offer love even without reasons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-8465091717092142308?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/8465091717092142308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=8465091717092142308&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8465091717092142308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8465091717092142308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-2-are-you-proud-to-be-filipino.html' title='Day 2: are you proud to be a filipino?'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TMMOBFOzdhI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/OPIYDzQywTE/s72-c/tongueout.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-6309295064680415193</id><published>2010-10-21T17:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T13:50:57.960+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1: My favorite person.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;JANINE ELLIS "bulet" PARRENO&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TMK9LsjOAJI/AAAAAAAAAJs/mkZvxv2aKIA/s1600/30290_1316368391454_1298053453_30819335_2328547_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 288px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TMK9LsjOAJI/AAAAAAAAAJs/mkZvxv2aKIA/s320/30290_1316368391454_1298053453_30819335_2328547_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531191300999479442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's strong but a lil bit careless. She can be a brat sometimes and out of control. She can be a real pain in the neck and can irritate you so bad. She knows just what to do to make you lose your temper. She can punch you in the face if she wants to. Yes, she's one tough girl- my dear lil sis, &lt;b&gt;BULET&lt;/b&gt;. And yes again, she's my favorite person cause she's the &lt;u&gt;only girl in the world who can call me &lt;i&gt;ate&lt;/i&gt; and mean it&lt;/u&gt;. She may be hard to handle but she listens to me. And as her &lt;b&gt;ate&lt;/b&gt;, i'm always here to lift her up when people tries to pull her down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Others may judge her negatively, but for me, she's an angel. My lil angel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-6309295064680415193?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/6309295064680415193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=6309295064680415193&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/6309295064680415193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/6309295064680415193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-1-my-favorite-person-in-whole-wide.html' title='Day 1: My favorite person.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TMK9LsjOAJI/AAAAAAAAAJs/mkZvxv2aKIA/s72-c/30290_1316368391454_1298053453_30819335_2328547_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-5046272389883115051</id><published>2010-10-20T12:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T13:50:19.061+08:00</updated><title type='text'>back from outer space</title><content type='html'>Finally, I can totally say my 1st semester is over! Yahooooo! Hahaha. I'm done with my make-up duties and I've passed all my subjects thanks to our good Lord. Now, I still have 12 days to have a vacation. I'm coming home to Mindanao on Monday and I can't wait! I hope it's 25 already when I wake up tomorrow. Hahaha. But yeah,that's not gonna happen so I'll just enjoy my remaining 3 days here in Iloilo.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, since everybody is doing this 30-days-challenge-thingy, I've decided to do it too. But instead of 30 days, I'm planning to do it in just 15 days and I made my own daily topics to blog.:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 1: Your favorite person.&lt;br /&gt;Day 2: Are you proud to be a Filipino?&lt;br /&gt;Day 3: If you have a time machine, would you go back to the past or would you prefer to take a glance to your future?&lt;br /&gt;Day 4: Your pet peeve.&lt;br /&gt;Day 5: Would you go for someone who loves you or with the person you love?&lt;br /&gt;Day 6: Your most treasured childhood memory?&lt;br /&gt;Day 7: Write a poem.&lt;br /&gt;Day 8: The best and worst thing about the Philippines?&lt;br /&gt;Day 9: The very mistake you wish you didn't make.&lt;br /&gt;Day 10:15 things you really really really wanna do with your life.&lt;br /&gt;Day 11: What makes you smile?&lt;br /&gt;Day 12: Write a letter to yourself.&lt;br /&gt;Day 13: Your greatest fear.&lt;br /&gt;Day 14: The very person you pity the most. Why?&lt;br /&gt;Day 15: Who is GOD in your life?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-5046272389883115051?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/5046272389883115051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=5046272389883115051&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/5046272389883115051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/5046272389883115051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/10/back-from-outer-space.html' title='back from outer space'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-5182020946224771735</id><published>2010-10-04T01:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T01:46:46.712+08:00</updated><title type='text'>gotta study!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TKjAgfsY_-I/AAAAAAAAAJU/M5bfTJOCHVk/s1600/smillll.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TKjAgfsY_-I/AAAAAAAAAJU/M5bfTJOCHVk/s320/smillll.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523876607465947106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be studying for my final exam and this time I mean it. I'm feeling nervous and guilty at the same time. I could not afford to fail. Mama said she already invited her friends for my graduation party this March. Of course, I know that she's just kidding but you get the point,right? Disappointing my parents is one thing I fear the most. So yeah,I gotta study now. I pray God would help me. I'll post something good soon. Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-5182020946224771735?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/5182020946224771735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=5182020946224771735&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/5182020946224771735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/5182020946224771735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/10/gotta-study.html' title='gotta study!'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TKjAgfsY_-I/AAAAAAAAAJU/M5bfTJOCHVk/s72-c/smillll.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-6330117146601825240</id><published>2010-10-02T14:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T01:06:45.259+08:00</updated><title type='text'>random explosion.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TKim4g_mSjI/AAAAAAAAAJM/8KNsfRHyykE/s1600/trash-can-full-of-trash.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 243px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TKim4g_mSjI/AAAAAAAAAJM/8KNsfRHyykE/s320/trash-can-full-of-trash.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523848432829483570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are lots of lots of random thoughts inside my brain right now I think it's gonna explode. First,I'm finding reasons why I am here in front of my laptop instead of reading my book, we'll be having our final exam this Wednesday and I haven't read a thing but I cannot force myself to go study even if my brain wants to. Okay, my id and superego are in battle and I think my id's gonna win. Poor superego. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, I'm worried about a friend of mine. She's like a sister to me and I love her dearly. How can I tell her something which I think she wouldn't accept and would probably make her feel bad but I know and our other friends know that she needs to know this. Am I making any sense here? I dunno, it's hard to be honest to a friend whom you don't wanna hurt but you know that keeping the truth from her would only make her worse. Her situation made me realized how life can be so twisted and unfair and cruel not to mention unpredictable. I know that life is full of surprises and everyday is like entering another door with the feelings of excitement and fears. You're hopeful that everything would be alright but still you couldn't take the doubts away from your head. Even if the door is painted with yellow,it doesn't guarantee that it'll lead you to positive roads. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom called earlier this evening and ranted about my sister's despicable behavior. GOD knows I love my lil sister but news like that from my mom makes me wanna go home and give her a slap on the face. Mama is already 50 years old and she has a weak heart and I dunno why my sister couldn't understand that she needs to behave if she wants to see her live longer. My mom once told me that she thinks my lil sis would cause her death. I just laughed when she said that but now I'm having second thoughts. How I wish I could go home! Dear God, I wish it's 25 already. What did I say? RANDOM THOUGHTS. RANDOM THOUGHTS. So bear with me. Haha. Lately, I've been feeling melancholic and I don't like it. I want people to see sunshine in my eyes not dark clouds. I feel so depressed and not knowing the reason why only makes me feel even more depressed. I'm trying to remove every negative thought out of my head and I'm trying to ignore every person who annoys me and I realized that I needed to pray to keep bad emotions away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My post is getting senseless, isn't it? So I'll end here. I think I need to sleep now, give my brain cells a break hoping that tomorrow, I'll be able post something that is worth reading. Good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-6330117146601825240?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/6330117146601825240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=6330117146601825240&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/6330117146601825240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/6330117146601825240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/10/there-are-lots-of-lots-of-random.html' title='random explosion.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TKim4g_mSjI/AAAAAAAAAJM/8KNsfRHyykE/s72-c/trash-can-full-of-trash.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-5641164562556129390</id><published>2010-09-25T09:12:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T15:01:22.160+08:00</updated><title type='text'>thank you E</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;In my previous post, I've ranted that I wanna receive a letter from someone. Guess what? I really did. :D &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A guy friend gave me one. I don't really consider him as my friend coz he always bugs me and I just wanna punch him in the face whenever he teases me but there are also times  when we can just talk and ironically, I enjoy having conversations with him.  I kinda hate him cause he's so irritating and insensitive and a hypocrite! He thinks he's funny when he makes fun of people. But I dunno, when he gave me the letter I jokingly asked from him, I was surprised. Even before,  I honestly believed that he wasn't so bad after all. That maybe he was just acting like an elementary pupil enjoying his life! But when he teases me like hell ,my skull just wants to explode! Yet, I know he's a sweet guy. It shows. Even when he's not really trying. And I find him really smart.&lt;br /&gt;Oh my, I can't believe I'm actually praising him. Haha. I don't hate him but I don't like him that much. He's bad but sometimes nice. At times though, he makes it easier for me to open up. Oh gawd, he'confusing! And oh, it's not a love letter, okay? Just wanna make that clear. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-5641164562556129390?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/5641164562556129390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=5641164562556129390&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/5641164562556129390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/5641164562556129390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/09/back-at-last.html' title='thank you E'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-9164224331356745711</id><published>2010-09-12T18:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T18:31:13.667+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TIyrIPNM8LI/AAAAAAAAAI8/lWW_870XPCE/s1600/Youre-Beautiful-Wallpaper-Kang-Shin-Woo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 279px; height: 271px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TIyrIPNM8LI/AAAAAAAAAI8/lWW_870XPCE/s320/Youre-Beautiful-Wallpaper-Kang-Shin-Woo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515971801631223986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love with this guy.  Need I say more?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-9164224331356745711?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/9164224331356745711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=9164224331356745711&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/9164224331356745711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/9164224331356745711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/09/im-in-love-with-this-guy.html' title=''/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TIyrIPNM8LI/AAAAAAAAAI8/lWW_870XPCE/s72-c/Youre-Beautiful-Wallpaper-Kang-Shin-Woo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-5256947965085077636</id><published>2010-09-07T08:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T21:37:11.730+08:00</updated><title type='text'>let's grow old together.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TIY181pZZtI/AAAAAAAAAI0/Pp2Y9_G4onI/s1600/old_couple_3413123.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TIY181pZZtI/AAAAAAAAAI0/Pp2Y9_G4onI/s320/old_couple_3413123.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514154113070884562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I told you how obsessed I am with my freedom? Yes, I love being free. Doing things by myself. I hate taking orders from other people, except from my parents of course. Haha. Life taught me to be independent in so many ways, making me think it's possible for me to survive life alone. I could go through life even without a partner. I don't need a man. But you know what? At the back of my mind, I'm wishing God would send me someone to grow old with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was buying at the grocery store earlier when I saw an old couple having their lunch together. Oh, I was really charmed. I adore old couples so much. I find it amazing how two people could keep their love strong for so many years. I find it sweet when they look at each other with sparks on their eyes. The old man held Grandma's hand making her feel secure. It feels like I'm watching a romantic movie scene. Oh my, having someone to grow old with? That would be nice,eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I know what i would pray for: I'd pray for an old man with silver hair who probably couldn't see clearly anymore but still finds me beautiful, who could hardly speak but still tells me sweet stuff, who couldn't even walk steadily but is still willing to take a walk with me.&lt;b&gt; A man whose heart may be aged but still and will be beating for me. Only for me. :D &lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-5256947965085077636?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/5256947965085077636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=5256947965085077636&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/5256947965085077636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/5256947965085077636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/09/lets-grow-old-together.html' title='let&apos;s grow old together.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TIY181pZZtI/AAAAAAAAAI0/Pp2Y9_G4onI/s72-c/old_couple_3413123.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-2295899721435208793</id><published>2010-08-25T14:32:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:27:08.549+08:00</updated><title type='text'>venus raj</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/THS476t0hSI/AAAAAAAAAIk/96iYkXD1IEM/s1600/Venus-Raj.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 254px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/THS476t0hSI/AAAAAAAAAIk/96iYkXD1IEM/s320/Venus-Raj.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509231583694193954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened yesterday was heartbreaking. But as they say, another day means another blessing, another opportunity to find joy. And today, one Filipina gave every Filipinos a reason to smile again. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ma. Venus Raj, our country's representative to the Ms. Universe was crowned 4th runner up. Out of 83 beautiful women around the universe, Venus was one of the ladies who made it to top 5. I've heard in the news that other Filipino thinks she could have won the title had she answered the question better. She did her best,okay? So instead of talking ill about her, can't we all just be proud of her? She's beautiful and witty and humble and confident. SO let's be major major happy for her and for our country also. Thankyou.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-2295899721435208793?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/2295899721435208793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=2295899721435208793&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/2295899721435208793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/2295899721435208793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/08/venus-raj.html' title='venus raj'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/THS476t0hSI/AAAAAAAAAIk/96iYkXD1IEM/s72-c/Venus-Raj.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-1616615455168112995</id><published>2010-08-24T13:52:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:28:25.004+08:00</updated><title type='text'>video of  philippines tourists hostage taking  - quirino grandstand</title><content type='html'>&lt;object style="background-image:url(http://i4.ytimg.com/vi/Wj3aiJxrGt8/hqdefault.jpg)" width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Wj3aiJxrGt8?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Wj3aiJxrGt8?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" width="480" height="295" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our beloved Philippines again made its name famous around the globe, all thanks to this man: dismissed Senior Inspector&lt;b&gt; Rolando Mendoza&lt;/b&gt; . Oh my, I was watching the news and I couldn't help but to feel uh-oh. I am ashamed of the way the policemen responded to the crime. And they're saying they did their best? come on! It took them 10 hours to capture one man. Well, their best took 3 lives and harmed 17 people. Their best led to the grieving of Chinese nationals. Their best is the very reason why the Philippines is now black listed in Hongkong. &lt;b&gt;Their best shamed us&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the hostage taker, I don't know what to say. I'm thinking that Mendoza, just like other hopeless Filipinos,failed to see light in our poor country. Maybe, he was also a victim. A victim of his self. His family and friends keep on saying that he was a good man. I don't know,maybe he was. Only God can judge him now. I do know one thing : I pity him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna talk more about this issue cuz it only makes my head hurt. Our policemen needs training,a very very very  serious training.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it rained earlier, I believe God was weeping for the Filipinos. So let's pray for the people who died, for the survivors, and for our country's future. &lt;b&gt;May God bless Philippines&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-1616615455168112995?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/1616615455168112995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=1616615455168112995&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1616615455168112995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/1616615455168112995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/08/video-of-philippines-tourists-hostage.html' title='video of  philippines tourists hostage taking  - quirino grandstand'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-5843584764801547449</id><published>2010-08-23T10:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T10:15:00.845+08:00</updated><title type='text'>perfect than dolls.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/THEP6dGF6sI/AAAAAAAAAIc/QRT29uqaBj0/s1600/tumblr_l706r7DGXb1qcbx9io1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/THEP6dGF6sI/AAAAAAAAAIc/QRT29uqaBj0/s320/tumblr_l706r7DGXb1qcbx9io1_500.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508201316167838402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have oh-so-perfect bodies and they wear the latest fashion trends. They're in every famous boutique in town and they catch every girl's attention. Oh my, I just envy them. Yes, I envy these mannequins. Got a problem with that? HAHA. I think mannequins are more perfect than dolls.:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-5843584764801547449?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/5843584764801547449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=5843584764801547449&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/5843584764801547449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/5843584764801547449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/08/perfect-than-dolls.html' title='perfect than dolls.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/THEP6dGF6sI/AAAAAAAAAIc/QRT29uqaBj0/s72-c/tumblr_l706r7DGXb1qcbx9io1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-5486269193356062585</id><published>2010-08-15T08:04:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T08:52:04.773+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi. I am Eprilis.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k2SfQAdLKJ8/TzMYotf0RkI/AAAAAAAAAag/sJgRuDWpsJA/s1600/7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 18px; height: 21px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k2SfQAdLKJ8/TzMYotf0RkI/AAAAAAAAAag/sJgRuDWpsJA/s400/7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706932240495429186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YV2qBIAqbwQ/TzMXpjFGL-I/AAAAAAAAAaU/cWCWZ1DpoiA/s1600/azul-ceu-gabife-girl-igottapeenow.tumblr.com-pink-Favim78.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 40px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YV2qBIAqbwQ/TzMXpjFGL-I/AAAAAAAAAaU/cWCWZ1DpoiA/s400/azul-ceu-gabife-girl-igottapeenow.tumblr.com-pink-Favim78.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706931155367243746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Hi. My name is April Liz A. Parreño, 19 years old, Filipina. Who is Eprilis? It's still me. That's how my mom calls me when she's mad. I grew up in Tacurong City, Sultan Kudarat, Mindanao. So yeah, I grew up in a place where bombs and killings are usual.But unlike what other people thinks, our place isn't really that scary because of the conflict between Muslims and Christians. I had Muslim friends way back in elementary and high school. They were great. I must say, there are also some Muslim people and also Christians who are not so great.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love my dad dearly. I love my mom and sister too,but yeah, I can say I really am a papa's girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was five, Papa said I had a high fever. Since my parents were not rich and we didn't have a car, they had to send me to the hospital using our old bicycle. And to keep me awake, Mama made me sang my ABCs while on the way. Papa said I was really a smart kid because I could still sing even when I was burning up. Until now, he says he still thinks I am smart. Oh well, fathers will be fathers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a kid, I didn't really have toys. I never even had a doll. But I had a happy childhood.Cause &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;although I didn't have toys or pretty dolls, I had friends.&lt;/span&gt; After school, we would play at the empty lot in our neighborhood. We would play hide and seek or go fishing in the lake or climb santol trees. Oh, those were the happy times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though puberty kinda freaked me out - High school was the best stage of my life. I've met people - good ones. I learned lots of stuff. Yes, it was a lil bit dramatic at times I but  enjoyed every moment of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; After graduation, I wanted to take up Communication Arts in UP. Papa wanted me to take up Geodetic Engineering in Davao. Mama wanted me take up Nursing in Iloilo. Since mothers always know best, I followed Mama's advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my sophomore years in college, I found out something dreadful. I cried for days until I realized that no matter how hard I cry, things will never be the same. I will never be the same again. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mama told me to be strong, I tried. It wasn't easy especially when you're alone and there's no one to back you up, but still, I tried.&lt;/span&gt; There were times when I would cry in my bed. There were times when I would have lots of fun, get drunk and just forget about it. And there were times that when I am scared, I would just write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would write all the thoughts in my head, the reasons for my happiness, my heartaches - stuff I could never tell anybody even my friends, my funny dreams and ambitions in life, my idea of a perfect guy, my frustrations and lastly,my fears. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And while writing, I always remind myself that nothing lasts forever.&lt;/span&gt; This struggle will soon pass. The thought of it makes me feel better. And I would smile again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TGftU8FrguI/AAAAAAAAAIU/GB0JrCfSYyc/s1600/19034_1202638508278_1298053453_30566119_2886901_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TGftU8FrguI/AAAAAAAAAIU/GB0JrCfSYyc/s320/19034_1202638508278_1298053453_30566119_2886901_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505630013466837730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My name is April but I prefer to be called Eprilis. I express myself best through writing. This is my story. And thank GOD it is not finished yet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-5486269193356062585?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/5486269193356062585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=5486269193356062585&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/5486269193356062585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/5486269193356062585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/08/hi-i-am-eprilis.html' title='Hi. I am Eprilis.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k2SfQAdLKJ8/TzMYotf0RkI/AAAAAAAAAag/sJgRuDWpsJA/s72-c/7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-2229107752279293383</id><published>2010-08-09T08:51:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:35:14.360+08:00</updated><title type='text'>honey and clover.</title><content type='html'>I am a sucker for animes, and HONEY AND CLOVER is my favorite. I find the story very honest and moving. My favorite couple in the story is Yamada and Mayama. They're lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TF7Aqe_nuwI/AAAAAAAAAH0/rK80CCj7PyU/s1600/mayamayamada0101.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TF7Aqe_nuwI/AAAAAAAAAH0/rK80CCj7PyU/s320/mayamayamada0101.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503047630800272130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yamada is in love with Mayama but unfortunately, Mayama loves someone else. I know a lot of girls could relate to Yamada. So here are some of their conversations that really touched me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this scene, Yamada was talking to Morita about Mayama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Yamada:&lt;/b&gt;  Mayama is stupid. He always shows his good side to others. Worries about others. And when he seems obtainable, he runs away. He has probably decided that he can never be reached. He probably can’t do anything because he’s afraid to look uncool. He’s an idiot! A big idiot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Morita:&lt;/b&gt; I don’t get it. If you know that he’s that stupid why do you like him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Yamada:&lt;/b&gt; I’d like to know that! I don’t understand! I’ve liked him for so long. So long. But Mayama likes someone else. But I wanna hear his voice. I want to hold his hand. I feel like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Every girl has her own story of heartbreak. It is given that when we allow ourselves to fall in love, one way or another, we'll get hurt.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yamada has been in love with Mayama for so long, but Mayama loves someone else. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And no matter how hard Yamada tries to forget about him, she can't because she's fallen in love deeply that even if it hurts so bad, the only thing she still longs for is holding the hands of the person who caused her pain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are my favorite lines from&lt;b&gt; Yamada:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was told no by Mayama, but I can’t just suddenly dislike him. With complex feelings like this,&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; just because you don’t end up going out doesn’t mean it just automatically goes away."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How do you give up? Is it by deciding to give up and following through with it? Or is it by taking steps away from your true feelings? I wonder if someday I will forget the smell of his brown hair, the feeling of his cold ears and the warmth of his back. I wonder if even this pain will all disappear and be forgotten. All of it with nothing left behind. Almost like there was nothing there from the beginning."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, you can call her a fool but the way I see it,&lt;b&gt; love makes every person foolishly happy. Ironic but that's just the way love moves.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mayama:&lt;/b&gt; Can I ask, why me? No matter how mad you get at me, I probably won’t change. It’s probably faster if you find another guy. Stop looking at me.&lt;br /&gt;(crying)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Yamada:&lt;/b&gt; Never once did I say it. But just as he knew my feelings and couldn’t return them. She will probably realize his and probably his heart wouldn’t have a chance either? When I think about things like that, my tears won’t stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TF7DD4fKOZI/AAAAAAAAAIE/_rQIECu9v0A/s1600/ferris.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TF7DD4fKOZI/AAAAAAAAAIE/_rQIECu9v0A/s320/ferris.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503050266163427730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looooovvveeeee is really  indescribable. Haha. I find it awkward for me to talk about love because honestly I have never been in love before. But I love watching movies and reading books about love. And I must say that love is magical. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's the reason behind a person's sweetest smile. It could make you crazy and forget the world and even yourself. And sometimes, love could also be the reason for our heartaches,&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; but in the end, if you know you've loved the right person,all the pain would be worth it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think this is why Yamada is still holding on to Mayama. In her heart, she knows that she is the one for Mayama so she will still stay even if he keeps on pushing her away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: One day, I wish I could love like Yamada. And I wish I could find someone like Mayama to love. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-2229107752279293383?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/2229107752279293383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=2229107752279293383&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/2229107752279293383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/2229107752279293383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/08/honey-and-clover.html' title='honey and clover.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TF7Aqe_nuwI/AAAAAAAAAH0/rK80CCj7PyU/s72-c/mayamayamada0101.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-8827023223313850872</id><published>2010-08-08T01:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-08T20:22:19.553+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I haven't blogged for a while because July was a busy month for me. It is soooooooooo stressful! I am so thankful it's over,yey! Haha. I hope August would be nicer to me. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-8827023223313850872?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/8827023223313850872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=8827023223313850872&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8827023223313850872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8827023223313850872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-havent-blogged-for-while-because-july.html' title=''/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-7479010114916605975</id><published>2010-07-10T23:10:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:38:21.087+08:00</updated><title type='text'>someone like Hector.</title><content type='html'>If you'd ask what's the only thing I wanna receive today, I'd say it's a letter. I know it's not "uso" anymore knowing that people nowadays use cellular phones instead and of course, internet also made it easier to communicate to our loved ones who are miles and miles away from us. But still, I think a letter especially written for you is special.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;b&gt;The thought that someone took time to sit down,grab a pen and write his/her thoughts about you makes me feel good inside.&lt;/b&gt;  That is why, I wanna read a letter especially written for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found this letter while I was surfing the net. I think Reina is  a really really really lucky girl. I really hope I could find someone like Hector. He's the sweetest guy ever. Here's his letter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Reina,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the very first moment I saw you I knew that we were destined to be together. It has been so long since a woman has captured my attention so fully or made my heart beat the way it did that cool day in May. Your smile lights up my entire spirit. Your laughter fills me with joy, and your mere presence will warm any room.&lt;b&gt; I have no doubt you are the woman Heaven has made especially for me.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for the comfortable conversations and for asking me to be yours. Most importantly, thank you for sharing your love and wanting to make me your husband. No matter how slowly or at what distance our courtship develops,&lt;b&gt; I know standing before God and our future family, vowing to be your partner for life, was the easiest decision I could have ever made.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each day that passes makes our love for each other grow stronger. Although I know it’s hard for us to be apart, I know there is nothing that can keep us apart forever. Our desires will continue to stretch across any distance, over every mountain and ocean between us. Nothing can stand between us, and nothing will stop me from meeting you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are my future and nothing can ever keep us from our destiny. I miss you more every day. I am here with open arms where you will some day finally arrive... right where you belong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love Always,&lt;br /&gt;Hector&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't he the most romantic guy ever?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-7479010114916605975?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/7479010114916605975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=7479010114916605975&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7479010114916605975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/7479010114916605975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/07/someone-like-hector.html' title='someone like Hector.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-8862515352250970159</id><published>2010-07-05T02:00:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:39:19.321+08:00</updated><title type='text'>arnee's20th.</title><content type='html'>School has been like hell this past few days. Our clinical instructors have been bombarding us with quizzes and requirements making my brain cells wanna explode. My head hurts each time I take a glance at the piles of photocopies I gotta read. Oh my,yes, I am busy but it doesn't mean I couldn't make time to celebrate our dear friend's birthday.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Yup,RUBI &lt;b&gt;(ARNEE SHIELU MANA-AY)&lt;/b&gt; just turned 20 last Thursday, July 1,2010. We call her Rubi because of her bloody red lipstick. Haha. While my classmates are already busy studying for our exams, my friends and I went out to spend time with Arnee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TDDO_rcwVbI/AAAAAAAAAHE/ePwhKqZlNxM/s1600/DSC03748.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TDDO_rcwVbI/AAAAAAAAAHE/ePwhKqZlNxM/s320/DSC03748.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490115539155047858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been friends for almost 3 years now. One word to desribe her, &lt;b&gt;SHOPAHOLIC.&lt;/b&gt; People who doesn't know her well might think that she's &lt;b&gt;maarte and sosyal and vain.&lt;/b&gt; But hey, we know Arnee's a lot better than that. She's a great friend who is always there when you need her. She makes time to be with you. When you're down, she's there to lift you up. A friend who'll defend you from other bitches and will always support you in everything you do - katangahan man o hindi. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Arnee is also a very strong and independent woman. And I guess that is why her boyfriend,Keith, loves her dearly.&lt;b&gt; She's the type of friend every girl would love to have.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you all the happiness RUBI,thank you for being a good friend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-8862515352250970159?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/8862515352250970159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=8862515352250970159&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8862515352250970159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/8862515352250970159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/07/arnees20th.html' title='arnee&apos;s20th.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TDDO_rcwVbI/AAAAAAAAAHE/ePwhKqZlNxM/s72-c/DSC03748.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-4143259612369324032</id><published>2010-06-21T00:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:39:54.376+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my favorite singer of all time.:)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;You had the brightest smile after finding out that I was coming. You welcomed me with the warmth of your hands. You put me to sleep with your lullabies. You taught me my ABCs. You taught me to love mom and Bulet dearly. You didn't have much to offer, but you've given us everything we need. You made me believe that I deserve someone who would love me dearly because I am special. &lt;b&gt;You are the very reason why I keep on believing that not all men are assholes&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you for being such a faithful husband and a loving father. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485646672917793058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 317px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TCDulbaRiSI/AAAAAAAAAG8/1ggWJ1JhQAU/s320/pappapapappaap.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;I pray that God would send my love to Mindanao. Happy Father's Day Papa.:) &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;and to all the daddies in the world.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-4143259612369324032?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/4143259612369324032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=4143259612369324032&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4143259612369324032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4143259612369324032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/06/my-favorite-singer-of-all-time.html' title='my favorite singer of all time.:)'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oiKCg1R28/TCDulbaRiSI/AAAAAAAAAG8/1ggWJ1JhQAU/s72-c/pappapapappaap.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-4771515808853978880</id><published>2010-06-13T04:13:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:42:28.863+08:00</updated><title type='text'>what about independence?</title><content type='html'>heyaaa. In case you've forgotten,today is JUNE 12,2010 and yeah,it's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;INDEPENDENCE DAY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;! The Filipinos have been celebrating freedom for about 112 years now. The &lt;em&gt;chocolate-coated-not-so-tall-with-not-so-beautiful-noses people&lt;/em&gt; (that'd be us) are free! Now,let me say it again&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;,&lt;i&gt; &lt;u&gt;WE ARE FREE&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. and again, &lt;i&gt;&lt;em&gt;WE ARE FREE! WE ARE FREE! WE ARE FREE!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not crazy or anything, I just wanna repeat those three words over and over again so that my system could absorb it cuz honestly,I never felt freedom here in the Phil. &lt;em&gt;Nobody did&lt;/em&gt;. And what's more dreadly is that maybe,&lt;em&gt;nobody will&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;History tells us that the product of our heroes' struggles is the freedom of today's generation. &lt;b&gt;FREEDOM &lt;/b&gt;was&lt;b&gt; IMPORTANT&lt;/b&gt; to those people that they needed to fight, suffer and even die just to have it. They loved the Philippines dearly. I wonder why today's leaders couldn't have the same love for the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been captivated by the Spaniards and the Americans for&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; &lt;i&gt;sooooooo long&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, mas mahaba pa nga sa sa San Juanico Bridge ang panahong inalila tayo ng mga banyaga, hindi pa ba sila nagsasawa? Yes, we are not America's colony anymore but the Filipino leaders are still manipulated by them. Does the term&lt;b&gt; "neocolonialism"&lt;/b&gt; ring a bell,baby? &lt;i&gt;&lt;em&gt;It is the invisibble string that keeps on pulling every Filipino's knees to bow down to the other countries.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't that pathetic? It is. It really is. But it is also depressing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But really,the only scissor that could cut the stupid string can be found in every Filipino's hearts. The freedom and the change that' we've been longing is within us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a student, do not let other people limit your aspirations. Dream of great things and let your perseverance lead you to that dream.&lt;br /&gt;As a professional, do not let evil get into your way. Whatever job you may have, remember that you are working not just to earn money but also to help your fellow countrymen.&lt;br /&gt;As a leader, do not let greed hinder your passion to render service to the people who have given their trust in you.&lt;br /&gt;BE FREE.&lt;br /&gt;In that way, we could finally find reasons to celebrate every 12th of June.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a proud Filipino,let me say this in our beloved language:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;MALAYA KA.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;MALAYA AKO. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;MALAYA TAYO.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt; KAYA HAYAAN NATING SUMILAY ANG MGA NGITI SA ATING MGA LABI AT SABAY-SABAY NATING DAMHIN ANG KALIGAYAHANG HATID NG PAGIGING MALAYA.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6252719893014643079-4771515808853978880?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/4771515808853978880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=4771515808853978880&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4771515808853978880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/4771515808853978880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/06/what-about-independence.html' title='what about independence?'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252719893014643079.post-3459462197661655640</id><published>2010-06-10T13:12:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T10:49:29.150+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Newbie.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Let me make this clear. I created my own blog because I feel like I needed a site where I can just express my &lt;b&gt;not-so-interesting thoughts&lt;/b&gt; and my &lt;b&gt;oh-so-emotional sentiments&lt;/b&gt;. But I heard that blogging also allows you to meet new people,so having friends thru this site will definitely be a plus.:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realized recently that I'm already 19 (boo!) but I think I was more mature when I was in High School than I am now. It's weird but yeah,that's how I feel. Maybe because back in high school, I was good at expressing myself (not &lt;s&gt;bragging&lt;/s&gt; here,just telling the truth). Now in College, I've become the &lt;s&gt;walang-pakialam-sa-mundo&lt;/s&gt; type of kolehiyala.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tinatamad akong sumagot kapag tinatanong ako. Bakit? Kasi tinatamad akong mag-isip.:)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And this is the exact reason why I can't blame other people for thinking I'm dumb. Haha. I couldn't care less,anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay,so anong connection ng paggawa ng blog? I thought that if I could start to express myself more thru blogging, I would be able to recompose myself. I've always believed that writing is therapeutic that is why I would write again and again and again and again and again.:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br class="Apple-interchange-newline"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V4R_ndm5vak/TzMtRUsdd2I/AAAAAAAAAa4/5Wx27LqSe-M/s1600/iframe_follow_alpha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 58px; height: 20px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V4R_ndm5vak/TzMtRUsdd2I/AAAAAAAAAa4/5Wx27LqSe-M/s400/iframe_follow_alpha.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706954928444766050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nbaLrmCWwwo/TzMtRWAaiKI/AAAAAAAAAas/7sask-79LeA/s1600/iframe_dashboard_alpha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 81px; height: 20px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nbaLrmCWwwo/TzMtRWAaiKI/AAAAAAAAAas/7sask-79LeA/s400/iframe_dashboard_alpha.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706954928796895394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&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/6252719893014643079-3459462197661655640?l=thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/feeds/3459462197661655640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6252719893014643079&amp;postID=3459462197661655640&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/3459462197661655640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6252719893014643079/posts/default/3459462197661655640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesweetestpsycho.blogspot.com/2010/06/newbie.html' title='Newbie.'/><author><name>eprilis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16246020868768272897</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guPBYICQwgI/TygZocrgazI/AAAAAAAAAYA/AznzRJYaeSg/s220/246805_1799235382827_1298053453_31690579_3278587_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V4R_ndm5vak/TzMtRUsdd2I/AAAAAAAAAa4/5Wx27LqSe-M/s72-c/iframe_follow_alpha.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
