<?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-22765795</id><updated>2012-02-09T14:49:34.049+08:00</updated><category term='song'/><category term='movie'/><category term='quotes'/><title type='text'>Fragments of my Soul</title><subtitle type='html'>My life in its simplicity. 
Hear my echoes. See through me. 
Discern my thoughts and feelings.
Catch a glimpse... and maybe, just maybe, you could understand a part of my life.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>115</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-1638538374960458886</id><published>2006-11-28T22:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T22:52:16.977+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Serenity</title><content type='html'>Moving On...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have moved on to a new blog site,&lt;br /&gt;I have created a new blog,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sweetserenity.wordpress.com"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sweet Serenity&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-1638538374960458886?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1638538374960458886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=1638538374960458886&amp;isPopup=true' title='40 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/1638538374960458886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/1638538374960458886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/11/sweet-serenity.html' title='Sweet Serenity'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>40</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-2365196775528897393</id><published>2006-11-15T08:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T10:08:40.521+08:00</updated><title type='text'>being young at heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="150" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/untitled_m.jpg" width="190" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="151" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/untitled_d.0.jpg" width="190" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In three weeks time I would be turning a year older. Through all these years I have grown to be a more mature and strong woman. Though there are still times and certain situations wherein I am not. I'll be 3 years away from being 30. Being surrounded by little kids specially my own children makes me feel young. I don't think I will outgrow the child in me inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when I am in my teen years I love pink so much. I love Hello Kitty. Now that I am married and have kids of my own, I am still fond of disney characters, disney princesses, barbie, dora the explorer and a lot more. I love buying character items and clothes for them. It makes me happy and it makes my kids so happy too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-2365196775528897393?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2365196775528897393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=2365196775528897393&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2365196775528897393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2365196775528897393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/11/being-young-at-heart.html' title='being young at heart'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-7940856553662286129</id><published>2006-11-10T15:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-10T16:06:44.106+08:00</updated><title type='text'>this time I won't cry</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;No I won't cry, no tears will fall.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't feel good. Again, I felt a sense of regret last night before I go to sleep. There's no sense talking about what happened as nothing would change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Won't let your words put me down.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've heard hurtful words from you. I know I am not selfish, I have my reasons. Just because I don't want you to stay there means that I am selfish. Don't ask me who they are. What if I ask you, who I am and who the kids are for you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I would just let it all go.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forget it all. Pretend that this is just one of our misunderstandings. Something that we can't agree with. It would happen again, we both know it. And I would feel this way again, and I would hear those hurtful words once more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I need to be strong. I'll always be.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would face whatever would happen now. I don't want a time to come that the kids would ask and I can't think of a right answer. I won't let them feel what I had been feeling, knowing that they too would find it hard to understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I won't cry this time.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I won't let tears fall.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;No.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-7940856553662286129?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7940856553662286129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=7940856553662286129&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/7940856553662286129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/7940856553662286129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/11/this-time-i-wont-cry.html' title='this time I won&apos;t cry'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-2204845864094553813</id><published>2006-11-07T15:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-07T16:29:10.048+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mall of Asia: Restaurants</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/sm_front.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 158px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 170px" height="181" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/sm_front.jpg" width="160" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/sm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 170px" height="183" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/sm.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Photos coutesy of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.maniladailyphoto.com/category/malls/mall-of-asia"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Manila Daily Photo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.yugatech.com/photos/?a=sm-mall-of-asia"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Yuga's Photo gallery.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SM Mall of Asia is the largest shopping mall in the Philippines. It has many luxury stores and dining establishments. It's main attraction is the IMAX theater. I've only been there once though. Here's a compilation of some restos and dining places at SM Mall of Asia. All these reviews are from the forum at &lt;a href="http://www.femalenetwork.com/girltalk/index.php/topic,111149.0.html"&gt;Female Network&lt;/a&gt;. I know I won't be able to eat at those restos I decided to just compile their reviews here in my blog for my own personal use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pomodoro Verde&lt;/em&gt; - pastas range from Php 160-250, pizzas Php 160-200 (large sizes Php 400+), salads Php 200-250, starters are below Php 250&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bedscene&lt;/em&gt; - the place has nice decor. Entree is around Php 300&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pink Pepper&lt;/em&gt; - cozy ambience. Must try is their Spicy Ribs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gumbo&lt;/em&gt; - New Orleans foods (spicy foods and lots of seafoods). Big servings, pricey but worth it. Recommended dishes are the Grande Ribs, Jambalaya and Buffalo wings. Must try are the family feast, Black chicken, Honey glazed chicken, Cheesy baked oysters, Rockefeller oysters and crabcake. Minnesota mud pie with one block of ice cream for dessert is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mojito Bar&lt;/em&gt; - their Mongojito is good and also affordable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gram's Diner&lt;/em&gt; - good American food. Each meal consists of an entree, soup, coffee or tea. Good sandwiches, great shakes and great dessert (around Php 140 choco cake with vanilla ice cream)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oki Oki&lt;/em&gt; - good Japanese food. Tempura is around Php 250, sashimi with wasabi, oyakodon around Php 170&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Juanbambu&lt;/em&gt; - Asian food. Prices is less than 200 pesos, some combo meals. Good bagoong rice and cha gi,  good green tea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tandoor king&lt;/em&gt; - watered down indian food. Prices are less than 200 pesos. Good chicken kare and beef kofta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kalye Juan&lt;/em&gt; - Pinoy foods. The foods are yummy but the place is small, have to wait longer to be seated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Crazy Roll&lt;/em&gt; - maki and sushi with a twist. Reasonably priced&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lamesa Grill&lt;/em&gt; - Good interior and concept. Must try is their platter of shrimp kebab, ribs, chicken and fish. Bread pudding dessert is good. Poor service. Small servings for the food&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Burgoo&lt;/em&gt; - more spaceous compared to other restos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bangus&lt;/em&gt; - good food, generous servings. Set menu (rice, sinigang, pork, 2 kinds of bangus is around Php 650)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Azul&lt;/em&gt; - Filipino-Spanish resto. Nothing to rave about their food. Paellas and other dishes are good for 2-3 persons, salads for 1-2. Poor service. A budget of Php 500/person will suffice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cafe Breton&lt;/em&gt; - they have the best epresso, but their Cafe mocha is too sweet. Firewall and Eden crepes are fine. Poor service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Chocolat&lt;/em&gt;- great Deep dark choco cake Php 43/slice, Sugar Free Choco Mousse Php 54/slice. Must try plain choco, Bailey's choco, Carrot cake topped with choco icing. Lemon squares are also good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stars and Stripes&lt;/em&gt; - good food, price is worth it. Their platter of chicken, pork, beef, and shrimp is affordable. Must try House Special Steak and old-fashioned thick vanilla milkshake is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Perks Coffee Shop&lt;/em&gt; - good pizza for only Php 150 (8 slices, thin crust)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kaya&lt;/em&gt; - limited menu food choices. Good French toast and coffee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Plato Platina&lt;/em&gt; - Italian resto and wine bar. Good Carne Calzone (baked fresh), Salmon Pie, and Seafood Stroganoff. Good service&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;David's tea house&lt;/em&gt; - typical Chinese cuisine. Good dimsum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tempura Japanese grill&lt;/em&gt; - interiors are bright and modern. They have a smokeless grill where you could grill your own food. Good and affordable Japanese food. Food choices: sukiyaki Php 200, kani salad Php P88, kani sushi Php P60, mix maki Php 140, sake (salmon) sashimi Php&lt;br /&gt;140, ebi bacon furai Php P165, gomoku chahan (fried rice) Php P41, ebi bacon maki Php P160, california maki (4 pieces) Php P55, mango shake Php 46, watermelon shake Php 46, green tea ice cream Php 40&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;HAI&lt;/em&gt; - good and must try lotus rice Php 180 good for 3 persons. The place has a videoke room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tokyo cafe&lt;/em&gt;- good pizza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;KKK restaurant&lt;/em&gt;- good Filipino food. Must try is their sinigang na lechon and bagnet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lamesa grill&lt;/em&gt; - nice ambiance and good food&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Good Earth&lt;/em&gt; - Chinese Cuisine with a Western Twist. Excellent flavor, presentation and service.  Their landmark is the big Terracotta Warrior. Nice place and conducive for a good conversation. Their appetizer are compliments of the resto. Must try are the dimsums&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sushi Bar&lt;/em&gt; - food is served differently as their sushi/maki are placed in a carousel so you could just grab a plate while you are seating&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pupungs&lt;/em&gt; - reasonable price and good food&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tanabe&lt;/em&gt; - good food. Must try usuyaki beef. Yummy green tea ice cream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mandarin Wok&lt;/em&gt; - hefty servings and cheap price. Nothing to rave about&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Aruba&lt;/em&gt; - review isn't good. Poor service. Seems like all the food tastes the same&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Highlands Steakhouse&lt;/em&gt; - very pricey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-2204845864094553813?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2204845864094553813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=2204845864094553813&amp;isPopup=true' title='149 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2204845864094553813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2204845864094553813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/11/mall-of-asia-restaurants.html' title='Mall of Asia: Restaurants'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>149</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-7521549751684514469</id><published>2006-11-07T12:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-07T15:33:12.501+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my cup of tea</title><content type='html'>Recently, I am fond of drinking my cup of green tea after taking my lunch.  It removes the after taste of what I had taken. I don't know if its really healthy for my body, but then I've done a little bit of research on this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I've read about green tea:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cancer.org/docroot/ETO/content/ETO_5_3X_Green_Tea.asp?sitearea=ETO"&gt;Green tea&lt;/a&gt; is a drink made from the steamed and dried leaves of the Camellia sinesis plant, a shrub native to Asia. Black tea is also made from this plant, but unlike green tea, it is made from leaves that have been fermented. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.green-tea.us/"&gt;Studies&lt;/a&gt; suggests that the antioxidants may reduce the risk of cancer, prevent cavities, fight the flu virus, lower high blood sugar, lower blood cholesterol and provide an antibacterial action against food born illnesses. Studies also shows that green tea contains antioxidants, polyphenols, theanine, as well as a wide variety of vitamins and minerals. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is a &lt;a href="http://www.greentea.com/"&gt;new research study&lt;/a&gt; that indicates women who consume two or more cups of tea per day, over a period of time, may reduce their risk of ovarian cancer by 46%. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pdrhealth.com/drug_info/nmdrugprofiles/herbaldrugs/101320.shtml"&gt;Green tea&lt;/a&gt; is also effective against diarrhea and upset stomach, while boosting mood and energy. Used as a mouthwash, it fights cavities and plaque. There's also increasing evidence of its ability to fend off certain types of cancer, particularly cancer of the stomach, small intestine, colon, rectum, breast, lung, and pancreas. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Drinking green tea is safe though some people may develop allergic reactions and should stop drinking it. Too much caffeine can lead to nausea, trouble sleeping, and frequent urination. Pregnant woman should also limit drinking tea.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, I just love drinking hot green tea! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-7521549751684514469?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7521549751684514469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=7521549751684514469&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/7521549751684514469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/7521549751684514469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/11/my-cup-of-tea.html' title='my cup of tea'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-6524896433641155533</id><published>2006-11-06T15:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T15:18:31.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'>fleeting moments</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/brent1.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/brent1.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Having so much fun &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Playing with the organ &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Listening to its sound.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bringing you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Smiles and laughter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These moments are so fleeting &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Definitely worth capturing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-6524896433641155533?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6524896433641155533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=6524896433641155533&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6524896433641155533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6524896433641155533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/11/fleeting-moments.html' title='fleeting moments'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-4394730647995958231</id><published>2006-11-06T15:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T15:09:33.355+08:00</updated><title type='text'>starting to compute</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I love shopping and giving gifts to people I love. Christmas season is almost near and I can't wait to buy and wrap presents. Well, I just received my share in our office coop and my money earned 11% in 9 months time. Not bad considering that bank interest only ranges from 1-3% annually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I had planned to do with the money: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;20% buy things for me and the kids &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;50% deposit in the bank foy my baby's birthday next year &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;30% for the check-up and vaccination of my kids (it really cost that much!). &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And, I am also waiting for out 13th month pay which I hope would be given by first week of December. I won't be receiving that much as I had my maternity leave this year and it would lessen the 13th  month pay that I would get to receive. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Compute. Compute. Ok, we won't have any savings this year. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-4394730647995958231?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4394730647995958231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=4394730647995958231&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/4394730647995958231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/4394730647995958231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/11/starting-to-compute.html' title='starting to compute'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-5900541209621623415</id><published>2006-10-31T12:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-31T15:20:27.963+08:00</updated><title type='text'>sweet dreams baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/brent4.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="170" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/brent4.1.jpg" width="170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleep tight little one&lt;br /&gt;Watching you sleep&lt;br /&gt;So peaceful. So sweet.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what your dreams are made of &lt;br /&gt;May the angels guard you&lt;br /&gt;May you woke up with a smile on your face&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-5900541209621623415?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5900541209621623415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=5900541209621623415&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/5900541209621623415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/5900541209621623415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/sweet-dreams-baby.html' title='sweet dreams baby'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-6283591140458577026</id><published>2006-10-31T12:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-31T15:16:04.305+08:00</updated><title type='text'>loving my princess</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/sky.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="170" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/sky.1.jpg" width="170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Time had been too fast &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe how much you've grown &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're more beautiful that I had ever dreamed &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More precious that I had imagined&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/sky1.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="170" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/sky1.1.jpg" width="170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;No matter how old you would be &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You will always be loved &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You will always be our princess &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You will always be my baby &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-6283591140458577026?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6283591140458577026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=6283591140458577026&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6283591140458577026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6283591140458577026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/loving-my-princess.html' title='loving my princess'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-6808629114104786450</id><published>2006-10-31T12:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-31T12:11:24.704+08:00</updated><title type='text'>in my kids eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Sacrfice... that's what I always have to do. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I need to be strong... to protect them from their fears.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For 2 months, my kids are being taken care of stay-out caregivers. they would come to our house at 7 am and leave at 7 pm. Today is the last day that my kids would get to see their caregivers. It would be so hard as my kids have been accustomed to be with them everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, fears and pain enveloped me. Situations which I had hoped would not happen. My kids would again have to adjust and be comfortable to a new caregiver that my mom would get for them. I know it would be hard to trust strangers to take good care of them. In their eyes, I could feel their fears upon the facing another stranger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In pain, wishing that I would be there at all times. Yet I know I have to work to help support financially. The only thing I could do is remind them that they would be fine. I also have to release these fears in me. Praying at all times that nothing would harm them. Leaving my kids, while working in the office is not easy. Yet this is one thing that we have to live with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-6808629114104786450?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6808629114104786450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=6808629114104786450&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6808629114104786450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6808629114104786450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/in-my-kids-eyes.html' title='in my kids eyes'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-9185339175242677792</id><published>2006-10-30T15:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T15:33:16.691+08:00</updated><title type='text'>weekend exploration</title><content type='html'>Last Saturday, hubby and I went to Divisoria. It's a place where you could find the cheapest bargains and you could haggle with the prices. The place is always crowded yet I still love going there. We've bought some goods, toys and shirts. We then decided to take our merienda in one of the chinese fastfood in Binondo. We ate at Chuan Kee. Its the first time I've tasted kiampong (a sticky chinese fried rice).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/hopiapastillas.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/hopiapastillas.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;And of course, I've bought some hopia at Eng Bee Tin in Binondo. I love their hopia! I bought the Hopia Ube and the Hopia Ube/Pastillas combi. It's a very delightful treat. I have only bought 2 packs, whereas other peole are buying dozens and dozens of their hopia. Well, I would defintely go back and buy some more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-9185339175242677792?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/9185339175242677792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=9185339175242677792&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/9185339175242677792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/9185339175242677792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/weekend-exploration.html' title='weekend exploration'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-7303552219503485076</id><published>2006-10-30T10:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T10:49:05.132+08:00</updated><title type='text'>rainy monday</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;rainy days and mondays always gets me down&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like Mondays as I have to take the jeepney. I don't like rainy days when I need to go out. And today, it's Monday and it's raining. So I was 2 minutes late for work! I should have taken the day off instead of rushing and getting wet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-7303552219503485076?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7303552219503485076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=7303552219503485076&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/7303552219503485076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/7303552219503485076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/rainy-monday.html' title='rainy monday'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-6380886811310103919</id><published>2006-10-25T17:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T16:00:12.364+08:00</updated><title type='text'>cafe press</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/cafepress.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/cafepress.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/cafepress4.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/cafepress_creative.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/cafepress_creative.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/cafepress2.png"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/cafepress2.0.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I found this interesting website where you could shop, sell or create what's on your mind through &lt;a href="http://www.cafepress.com/?pid=6865858"&gt;Cafe Press.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cafepress.com/?pid=6865858"&gt;Cafe Press&lt;/a&gt; Community is the world's leading online Marketplace for unique independently created products. Some benefits of becoming an Affiliate are as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Earn up to 20% commission on all qualifying products + 30 return days on all visitors&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Earn up to 5% commission on Shopkeeper Referral Sales &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Send traffic to 35 million + unique products &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Display relevant ads that match and enhance your web site, shop or blog's content &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is interesting as you could &lt;a href="http://www.cafepress.com/cp/customize?pid=6865858"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cafepress.com/cp/customize?pid=6865858"&gt;create and customize&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/a&gt;your own t-shirts and photo gifts. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-6380886811310103919?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6380886811310103919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=6380886811310103919&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6380886811310103919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6380886811310103919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/cafe-press.html' title='cafe press'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-6138821531826019683</id><published>2006-10-24T10:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T10:39:49.544+08:00</updated><title type='text'>those past love stories</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everybody has a first love, they have left in yesterday.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Feelings they have left behind, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;it's just a place in time but not so far away.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading and hearing stories on past relationships and love lost gives me a totally different feeling I could not describe. How I wish there is such a thing as past-love-amnesia. Maybe the song &lt;a href="http://www.lyricsstyle.com/s/sealscrofts/firstlove.html"&gt;"First Love Never Dies" of Seals &amp;amp; Crofts&lt;/a&gt; works for me. Maybe there are just certain incidences in the stories that is similar to mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wish you love, I wish you happiness. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And may the years be kind to you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You'll always be a part of me, share this thought with me. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll carry you always.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memories makes me remember, memories that I wish would left me. It was 5 years ago, yet I could still recall every detail of it. My life is different now, afar from who I was before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;First love in my life. Where are you tonight? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wonder about you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;First love in my life. Did things turned out alright? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I worry about you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'Cause I've got everything, everything in life that I wanted.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It would kill me now and make me sad to know you are lonely.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;First love never dies.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm just a fan of stories of love. Stories wherein they would realize that there is still love, yet it was too late. Stories wherein one would get married, yet he still loves the other girl. Stories which end with the guy saying to her past girlfriend the words &lt;em&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;I married her, teaching myself, keeping in mind, that I married you"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; or the words &lt;em&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;how I wish it had been you..." &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I could write my own story.&lt;br /&gt;I should have written it years ago.&lt;br /&gt;And I am being sappy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say that your first love never dies&lt;br /&gt;You can put out the flame, but not the fire&lt;br /&gt;- Bonnie Tyler "First Love"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-6138821531826019683?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6138821531826019683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=6138821531826019683&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6138821531826019683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6138821531826019683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/those-past-love-stories.html' title='those past love stories'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-5842077085299740794</id><published>2006-10-21T12:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-21T12:41:26.994+08:00</updated><title type='text'>just the same</title><content type='html'>Often times I would find myself in the same place and in the same instances I had been. Thinking the same thoughts, questioning the same questions, dreaming the same dream.&lt;br /&gt;Where am leading?&lt;br /&gt;I have been walking on this same path for too long&lt;br /&gt;I had been feeling the same feelings I had felt before, facing the same fears and regrets...&lt;br /&gt;I had been staring at the same sky, wishing on the same star...&lt;br /&gt;Hoping I would be in a different place, in a different situation...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-5842077085299740794?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5842077085299740794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=5842077085299740794&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/5842077085299740794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/5842077085299740794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/still-tthe-same.html' title='just the same'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-3381963913582297136</id><published>2006-10-21T09:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-21T09:37:21.516+08:00</updated><title type='text'>earthquake</title><content type='html'>I just read from the &lt;a href="http://newsinfo.inq7.net/breakingnews/metroregions/view_article.php?article_id=27849"&gt;news&lt;/a&gt; that a 5.2 magnitude quake hits the country. We we're in Makati and the tremor registered at intensity 3. Good thing there were no reported damages. I did not felt the earthquake and its aftershock as I was so tired last night and we we're already sleeping that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With this I pray. Praying that our family and our love ones will always be safe whenever any calamity strikes. Praying that we would be together and that we would be free from harm. I believe that God is with us at all times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-3381963913582297136?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3381963913582297136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=3381963913582297136&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/3381963913582297136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/3381963913582297136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/earthquake.html' title='earthquake'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-2908302317613515492</id><published>2006-10-17T16:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:29:19.837+08:00</updated><title type='text'>send gifts through Philgifts</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/Rose2.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/Rose2.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/Rose1.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/Rose1.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/flw_05_tnail.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/flw_05_tnail.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/Rose.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/GBL009a3.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/GBL009a3.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/5382t.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/5382t.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/premium.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/premium.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/flw_05_tnail.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/Balloon3.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/Balloon3.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/candle.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/candle.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/chocotemptationsml.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/chocotemptationsml.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is interesting. &lt;a href="http://www.philgifts.com/scripts/default.asp?idaff=5437"&gt;Philgifts&lt;/a&gt; offers delivery service for your loved ones in the Philippines. They have a wide range of flowers, teddy bears, chocolates, fruit baskets, christmas baskets, balloons and a lot more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.philgifts.com/scripts/prodView.asp?idProduct=504&amp;idaff=5437"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/Balloon3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/Rose1.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.philgifts.com/scripts/default.asp?idaff=5437"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/5382t.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/GBL009a3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/flw_05_tnail.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.philgifts.com/scripts/prodView.asp?idProduct=252&amp;amp;idaff=5437"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.philgifts.com/scripts/prodView.asp?idProduct=252&amp;amp;idaff=5437"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&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/22765795-2908302317613515492?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2908302317613515492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=2908302317613515492&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2908302317613515492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2908302317613515492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/send-gifts-through-philgifts.html' title='send gifts through Philgifts'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-5045877884112167246</id><published>2006-10-17T14:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T14:36:03.555+08:00</updated><title type='text'>his yesterday's memories</title><content type='html'>I remember yesterday was her day. She was a person in the past.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if he also remembered it, or had everything gone into oblivion.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe yes, maybe somehow, as the child is with him.&lt;br /&gt;The childs eyes, the boy's being makes him remember the woman.&lt;br /&gt;How could he not recall.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder where is she now. She carried with her their daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to recall the pain it had caused me.&lt;br /&gt;That until now I am still fighting this feeling of despise.&lt;br /&gt;I am not in pain.&lt;br /&gt;Though, I don't want to felt the scar it caused me, how I've been blinded, how it affected me and the feeling of regrets.&lt;br /&gt;I ought not to ask if he remember his past. I must forget.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-5045877884112167246?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5045877884112167246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=5045877884112167246&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/5045877884112167246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/5045877884112167246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/yesterdays-memories.html' title='his yesterday&apos;s memories'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-3979560374794425546</id><published>2006-10-16T15:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T15:56:29.534+08:00</updated><title type='text'>great words</title><content type='html'>Here I am. Working where there are very little or seldom exchanges of the words "good morning!" . Hearing those words today from a stranger made this day a good one. I am not of high rank but I appreciate those people who greet me with such words. Sometimes I also received the words "hello ma'm" on my way home from total strangers.  These are simple words that really make a big difference. With this, I always respond back giving those people my sincere smile. In my heart I could hear the words, "may you be blessed".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Office Memo:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;October 24, Tuesday is a regular holiday throughout the country in observance of EID'L FITR (FEAST OF RAMADHAN) under proclamation 1155.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-3979560374794425546?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3979560374794425546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=3979560374794425546&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/3979560374794425546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/3979560374794425546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/great-words.html' title='great words'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-6040392788452182090</id><published>2006-10-13T12:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-13T15:19:57.108+08:00</updated><title type='text'>click and earn</title><content type='html'>I decided to take a step into the world of making a revenue online. I decided to add &lt;a href="http://www.google.com/adsense"&gt;Google Adsense&lt;/a&gt; ads into my site. Have signed up for &lt;a href="http://www.adsense-xchange.com/?r=68550"&gt;Adsense-Exchange &lt;/a&gt;which would give clicks to my Adsense ads. Well, I am still in the process of learning how it works. Hoping that my quest for revenue will push through. I have also started signing up at traffic generating sites like &lt;a href="http://trafficechoes.com/?r=60889"&gt;Traffic Echoes&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.linkreferral.com/adwel.pl?oldrefid=70397"&gt;Link Referral&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is fun. It's something I love to do. I just hope I would generate some revenue.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I will create another blog for this soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know a lot of people are successful in making money online. How I wish they would give me some tips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I better start learning more...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-6040392788452182090?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6040392788452182090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=6040392788452182090&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6040392788452182090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6040392788452182090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/blog-traffic.html' title='click and earn'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-6207180767349945602</id><published>2006-10-10T12:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T09:56:11.956+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the way it is</title><content type='html'>I detest people who brag too much on what they have, especially people who are just planning to buy a certain thing. Seems they flaunt the money they have on their hands. They are not the typical rich persons, they are just ordinary people pretending to be full wealth. They feel that they are way above others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could remember someone saying &lt;em&gt;"nakahawak lang ng kaunting pera, akala mo mayaman na, akala mo kung sino na!" &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No humility. No humbleness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working each day is a drag.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to look forward to, just unmotivated.&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that others receive more makes me feel down.&lt;br /&gt;Leaving me without energy to give my best.&lt;br /&gt;Anticipating that time would be so fast.&lt;br /&gt;Reasoning out to myself that life had always been unfair.&lt;br /&gt;It always was.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-6207180767349945602?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6207180767349945602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=6207180767349945602&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6207180767349945602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6207180767349945602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/way-it-is.html' title='the way it is'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-7029225665826083400</id><published>2006-10-09T17:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-09T17:18:57.224+08:00</updated><title type='text'>women of strength</title><content type='html'>I have read this in the email and decided to put this in my blog. I am proud to be a woman. I am not strong enough, I am not perfect and I easily cry. Reading this strenthens me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WOMEN OF STRENGTH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;They carry children, they carry hardships, they carry burdens,&lt;br /&gt;yet they hold faith, happiness, love and joy.&lt;br /&gt;They smile when they want to scream.&lt;br /&gt;They sing when they want to cry.&lt;br /&gt;They volunteer for good causes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are pink ladies in hospitals, they bring food to shut ins.&lt;br /&gt;They are senators, educators, childcare workers, executives, attorneys,&lt;br /&gt;truck drivers, pilots, stay at home moms and your neighbors.&lt;br /&gt;They fight for what they believe in. They stand up against injustice.&lt;br /&gt;They write to the "powers that be" for things that make for a better life.&lt;br /&gt;They don't take "no" for an answer when they believe there is a better solution.&lt;br /&gt;They can wipe a tear, cover a cut and pat you on the back at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;They go without new shoes so their children can have them.&lt;br /&gt;They go to the doctor with a frightened friend.&lt;br /&gt;They tell people that need to be told to straighten up their act.&lt;br /&gt;They lend a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen&lt;br /&gt;and a voice to make suggestions.&lt;br /&gt;Their hearts break when a friend dies.&lt;br /&gt;They have sorrow at the loss of a family member,&lt;br /&gt;yet they are strong when they think there is no strength left.&lt;br /&gt;They can round up energy, even when they are tired.&lt;br /&gt;They can stay up a little longer to talk to someone that needs a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women do more than give birth. They bring peace and hope.&lt;br /&gt;They give compassion and ideals.&lt;br /&gt;They give moral support to their family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;They weep with joy when their children excel,&lt;br /&gt;and cheer when loved ones get awards.&lt;br /&gt;Women want people to grow into the best person they can be.&lt;br /&gt;They want to touch you in a way that will make you share your&lt;br /&gt;goodness with others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears,&lt;br /&gt;the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair&lt;br /&gt;... true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul.&lt;br /&gt;The beauty of a woman must be seen from her eyes because&lt;br /&gt;that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides.&lt;br /&gt;The heart of a woman is what makes the world spin!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-author unknown-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-7029225665826083400?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7029225665826083400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=7029225665826083400&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/7029225665826083400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/7029225665826083400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/women-of-strength.html' title='women of strength'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-2559728889580567795</id><published>2006-10-06T15:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-06T15:24:00.986+08:00</updated><title type='text'>wikimapia</title><content type='html'>I recently checked out this very interesting site, &lt;a href="http://www.wikimapia.org"&gt;Wikimapia&lt;/a&gt;. It's where you could get to see the whole earth. Imagine that! It's fun exploring and getting to know certain places. I immediately checked out the place where I live and labelled it. I don't know if it's allowed though. The site allows anyone to mark a location and place a description. It's a very useful tool and I am likely to visit it anytime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-2559728889580567795?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2559728889580567795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=2559728889580567795&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2559728889580567795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2559728889580567795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/wikimapia.html' title='wikimapia'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-7831211889002967527</id><published>2006-10-05T09:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-05T09:26:07.180+08:00</updated><title type='text'>still the same</title><content type='html'>three years had passed&lt;br /&gt;still nothing had changed&lt;br /&gt;tired of the daily routine&lt;br /&gt;offering me nothing&lt;br /&gt;just security&lt;br /&gt;then emptiness&lt;br /&gt;leading me no where&lt;br /&gt;a shift perhaps is better&lt;br /&gt;yet fears had enveloped me&lt;br /&gt;scared to embrace another change&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-7831211889002967527?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7831211889002967527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=7831211889002967527&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/7831211889002967527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/7831211889002967527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/still-same.html' title='still the same'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-8814919584089331817</id><published>2006-10-04T17:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T17:25:07.558+08:00</updated><title type='text'>randomness</title><content type='html'>+ on being late&lt;br /&gt;received today my memo for being late for the month of August. it's my 2nd offense already! whewww... we were only allowed to be late 4 times in a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+ on blog traffic&lt;br /&gt;I've spent some time today at &lt;a href="http://www.blogexplosion.com/index.php?ref=sunkhizz"&gt;Blog Explosion&lt;/a&gt;. I've surfed member blogs, played the scratchcard game, joined the blog rocket and voted in the battle of the blogs. I had fun at the site today, even if I've only won 1 mystery credit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-8814919584089331817?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8814919584089331817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=8814919584089331817&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/8814919584089331817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/8814919584089331817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/randomness.html' title='randomness'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-2841507284246613952</id><published>2006-10-03T10:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-03T10:41:47.313+08:00</updated><title type='text'>still no power</title><content type='html'>Until now, we're still living in the dark. It was so hard and we didn't know when we would have our electricity back. Read from the &lt;a href="http://www.abs-cbnnews.com/storypage.aspx?StoryId=52012"&gt;news &lt;/a&gt;that in Metro Manila, 97% have been restored. Lucky for those living in that places. Unfortunately, that was not us. So everyday we have to live in total darkness with only the candle giving us light. The kids are having a hard time sleeping. Whew!!!&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am taking advantage of the Internet connection here at the office. Keeping myself updated with the situation. Hoping that everything would be back to normal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-2841507284246613952?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2841507284246613952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=2841507284246613952&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2841507284246613952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2841507284246613952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/still-no-power.html' title='still no power'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-8590412875109722400</id><published>2006-09-30T09:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T09:38:07.072+08:00</updated><title type='text'>thyphoon</title><content type='html'>Strong thyphoon , Milenyo hit the country last thursday. I even came to work that day. I've witnessed how strong the thyphoon was. I've seen the great winds and the rain, trees being toppled from its roots, billboards collapsing. At 3 pm, I went home and while walking, we saw the damaged it had done. Arriving home without electricity. Heard from the news in the radio the destruction it had caused. Until now, we are still hoping that we would have it back since places already had their lights though some really doesn't have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-8590412875109722400?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8590412875109722400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=8590412875109722400&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/8590412875109722400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/8590412875109722400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/09/thyphoon.html' title='thyphoon'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-936336468322273172</id><published>2006-09-27T09:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T09:22:47.605+08:00</updated><title type='text'>a decade</title><content type='html'>ten years&lt;br /&gt;of knowing&lt;br /&gt;how long had it been?&lt;br /&gt;swiftly remembering&lt;br /&gt;forgetting&lt;br /&gt;nothing is the same&lt;br /&gt;just changes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-936336468322273172?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/936336468322273172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=936336468322273172&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/936336468322273172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/936336468322273172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/09/decade.html' title='a decade'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-7769220010047525143</id><published>2006-09-15T12:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T12:23:50.600+08:00</updated><title type='text'>diner dash 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/diner.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/diner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/diner.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Diner Dash 2: Restaurant Rescue is very addicting. I really love playing this game. I only have the trial version of first Diner Dash and I' m so glad I have the full version of this one. This game challenges you how to strategically sequence tasks. You have to seat customers, take orders, serve drinks, deliver food, and collect tips. There is an upgrade upon completion of one level. I just hope I have lots of time to play... unfortunately, I don't! &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/22765795-7769220010047525143?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7769220010047525143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=7769220010047525143&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/7769220010047525143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/7769220010047525143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/09/diner-dash-2.html' title='diner dash 2'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-6788379093968293817</id><published>2006-09-12T17:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T17:19:12.019+08:00</updated><title type='text'>not happy</title><content type='html'>Heard a sad news this morning. Employees in our company which are based in cupang, muntinlupa would be retrenched. whew! good thing is, I am in the head office and I am not affected with such. Well, here I am... staying in the it-doesnt-matter mode. But then, it was so dissapointing. There would me approximately 200 people who would be unemployed. They would only be paid a month's salary for 2 years of service. I pity those who have a family to support. Some could probably be rehired in another position, some will look for another job, while some would really felt that bitterness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not happy either with what I've heard from the radio. The song "Breaking Free" from Disney's High School Musical has another Asian version. This is sung by Nikki Gil, Vince Chong and Alicia Pan. The new version is far off from the real one. I love the original one which is sung by Zac Efron and Vanessa Anne Hudgens. I love this song. It song talks about following your dreams and believing in yourself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-6788379093968293817?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6788379093968293817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=6788379093968293817&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6788379093968293817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6788379093968293817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/09/not-happy.html' title='not happy'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-6510822424539066739</id><published>2006-09-08T15:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-08T15:34:36.675+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie'/><title type='text'>high school musical</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/highs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="142" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/highs.jpg" width="129" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is really a good movie to watch. My kids absolutely love this Disney movie. My daughter loves singing the songs and my 6-month old son is thrilled when he hears Ryan and Sharpay sing &lt;/div&gt;"What I've Been Looking For".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The entire cast is appealing. The music and choreography is great. High School Musical gets its conflict from the idea of doing something different from what people expect. The song "Stick To The Status Quo" points out the aspect of peer pressure which most teenagers worry about as to what their friends would think. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love the song "Breaking Free," "Start of Something New" and "We're All in This Together" . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-6510822424539066739?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6510822424539066739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=6510822424539066739&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6510822424539066739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6510822424539066739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/09/high-school-musical.html' title='high school musical'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-2581614148036629653</id><published>2006-09-07T11:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T12:13:08.264+08:00</updated><title type='text'>He was... She was</title><content type='html'>He found her... she never searched.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For him, she was a dream come true. For her, he could be.&lt;br /&gt;He loved her too much. She didn't know how little.&lt;br /&gt;He hold on too tight. She always yearn for freedom.&lt;br /&gt;He found in her the woman he yearn to marry. She could not see herself walking down the aisle. She was always in his dreams. He was also in her dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through the years, they love, fight, see other people, broke-up and made up.&lt;br /&gt;They laughed, cried, played, danced, hugged, kissed, slept in each others arms.&lt;br /&gt;A hundred good moments... a thousand memories.&lt;br /&gt;He was her first. He wanted her to be his last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had chosen another road. He gave her what she wanted.&lt;br /&gt;He was so devastated... his heart was filled with scars.&lt;br /&gt;She enjoyed her new life with another... her heart jumped with joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After sometime, their paths crossed.&lt;br /&gt;He thought he could bring back the flame. She thought another thing.&lt;br /&gt;He asked her if she still loves him. She did not answer, she felt different.&lt;br /&gt;He never want to see her leave. She hesitated on leaving as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From time to time, he would send her messages.&lt;br /&gt;She did not mind it, she was just busy.&lt;br /&gt;The communication was gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year had passed.&lt;br /&gt;He wanted to see her as he would transfer in a different place.&lt;br /&gt;She also wanted to but she told him she could not.&lt;br /&gt;He had somehow moved on, seeing her would make him take her back.&lt;br /&gt;She had moved on, seeing him would bring it all back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He started a new life, she had continued with hers.&lt;br /&gt;Then he sent her a message, she felt that all emotions poured in.&lt;br /&gt;He told her the truth. She accepted yet her mind was full of questions.&lt;br /&gt;He could not do anything, she could not do anything either.&lt;br /&gt;They do what is right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had the same faith, they had the same destiny.&lt;br /&gt;They got married at the same year, had their first born at the same month.&lt;br /&gt;But he was not with her, she was not with him either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had walked together hand-in-hand.&lt;br /&gt;They would continue walking, not with each other, but with people that deserves them.&lt;br /&gt;They both knew what is true.&lt;br /&gt;They knew what is real.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-2581614148036629653?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2581614148036629653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=2581614148036629653&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2581614148036629653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2581614148036629653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/09/he-was-she-was.html' title='He was... She was'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-2513689547322660373</id><published>2006-09-07T09:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T09:44:50.769+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='song'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie'/><title type='text'>shall we dance... sway</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;morning at the office... tired... sleepy... want to dance not here, people would stare. could not dance that well. they would think I am weird... remembering the music Sway from the movie Shall We Dance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="01"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/poster.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;When marimba rhythms start to play &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dance with me, make me sway &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hold me close, sway me more&lt;br /&gt;Like a flower bending in the breeze &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bend with me, sway with ease &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;W&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;hen we dance you have a way with me &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stay with me, sway with me&lt;br /&gt;Other dancers may be on the floor &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dear, but my eyes will see only you &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Only you have that magic technique &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When we sway I go weak&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Pussycat Dolls&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-2513689547322660373?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2513689547322660373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=2513689547322660373&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2513689547322660373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2513689547322660373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/09/shall-we-dance-sway.html' title='shall we dance... sway'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-3784960763993259340</id><published>2006-09-06T11:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T11:16:37.788+08:00</updated><title type='text'>what I aspire to be</title><content type='html'>I had once dreamed to be an executive. Working in a multinational company, leading a team of people, going abroad for trainings. I had once visioned myself to be a great one. It was so easy to dream and aspire when I am still young. After all these years, I had not accomplished much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel good for those who had achieved their goals. Maybe this is where I really belong. I feel like I don't have a career, an accomplishment to be proud at. Have I grown professionally, may not. Well. maybe it's not yet the end. I wouldn't wish, but I would still aspire to be one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-3784960763993259340?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3784960763993259340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=3784960763993259340&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/3784960763993259340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/3784960763993259340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/09/what-i-aspire-to-be.html' title='what I aspire to be'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-3669766656844645259</id><published>2006-09-01T15:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T15:53:42.938+08:00</updated><title type='text'>stillness</title><content type='html'>I am not good with words, with expressions.&lt;br /&gt;Still, my mind is filled with thoughts unspoken, unwritten.&lt;br /&gt;So many words left unexpressed.&lt;br /&gt;If only my mind could speak, if only it could write.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-3669766656844645259?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3669766656844645259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=3669766656844645259&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/3669766656844645259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/3669766656844645259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/09/stillness.html' title='stillness'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-2594436307949989047</id><published>2006-08-30T13:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T15:51:48.471+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I am beautiful no matter what they say&lt;br /&gt;Words can't bring me down&lt;br /&gt;I am beautiful in every single way&lt;br /&gt;Yes, words can't bring me down&lt;br /&gt;- Beautiful, Christina Aguilera&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simplicity is real... and this is who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking up at the word "vanity". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vanity is the excessive pride in one's appearance or accomplishments.&lt;br /&gt;Source: &lt;a href="http://www.thefreedictionary.com"&gt;http://www.thefreedictionary.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that means, I am not vain. True, I am not. Seldom do I worry about what I look. Maybe I had been unmindful of what others perceive me.  I am not that preety, yet often times being stolen a glance at. I am not a fan of make-ups, hair salons and spas. Yet, I take good care of myself. For me being fresh and clean at all times is enough. I am not against indulging oneself in a product that would make a person look good.  In fact, I always familiarize myself with these products. I love anything that is beautiful. I admire the beauty of a person.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well,  maybe it would help to be a little vain.  Sometimes being plain and simple is becoming a boredom. I believe that being beautiful had its advantages, though its not the only thing that matters. Being happy with what you have and loving yourself truly counts a lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-2594436307949989047?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2594436307949989047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=2594436307949989047&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2594436307949989047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2594436307949989047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-am-beautiful-no-matter-what-they-say.html' title=''/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-5417444914192305904</id><published>2006-08-29T09:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-29T09:54:24.575+08:00</updated><title type='text'>loving him</title><content type='html'>(continuation...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing him, being with him had been exciting, challenging and heartbreaking. Often times I think about letting go, but it gave me reason to prove that what we have is really worth it. I remember the times when it had given me emotional turmoil, that I even regret knowing him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I choose him over anything else and want to keep him with him. Yet, it never occured to me that he's the one for me. The thought of marrying never crossed my mind. Ironic. I had once wished to take care of what he already had, but then I realize that it weighs more than who I am. I found myself struggling to be his priority. Slowly, I had drifted. Resentment from what I had accepted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A thought of having our own comes to my mind, thinking that it would change the situation. Life had given me what I had desired, but then I contemplated on what the future would bring. I knew the right thing to do. I would keep my angel as this person is the only one I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 years ago I met the man whom I would share the rest of my life with. Our life is not a fairytale, it's the the type that would give you goosebumps. Amidst everything, we would keep this family. Praying that we would grow old together. Loving him is definitely a decision I had made.I had faced all the circumstances, all the pain that comes along with it. It would not stop here, there road is long, too many paths to take. I may not know how long we would stay. But I am happy for this love. A love not perfect, but real.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-5417444914192305904?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5417444914192305904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=5417444914192305904&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/5417444914192305904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/5417444914192305904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/loving-him.html' title='loving him'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-1519975005006337383</id><published>2006-08-28T17:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T17:31:51.992+08:00</updated><title type='text'>knowing him</title><content type='html'>He just turned 32. I met him 5 years ago. We we're working in the same company then. He was under the MIS department and I am in the QMS. I was turning 22 that time. While he was being a responsible man, I was in a relationship, with a man who loves me more than his life. The unexpected thing happened. Something that I had not dreamed about came into existence. I let go of my previous relationship and started a new one, this time, with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew then that I have love. It was then that I felt so much pain, so much hurt. Even realizing how stupid I am. The world could not understand me, but I believe they have their point. I am simply closing my eyes to what it really is. And I am blaming the world also. Life had been unfair for me. I wanted situations to be somewhat different, yet it could not be and it would never be. Times when I question love and what it really is. Times when I found myself why I had been in this situation. The answer was only, I choose to be in this road. It was then when I choose to accept him and what his past. It was never easy, nothing is ever easy. It was my tears who had made me strong. Believing that my plight matters, that eventually things would be as smooth as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(i'll continue this tomorrow...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-1519975005006337383?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1519975005006337383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=1519975005006337383&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/1519975005006337383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/1519975005006337383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/knowing-him.html' title='knowing him'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-2516041751838838293</id><published>2006-08-24T10:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-24T10:34:02.821+08:00</updated><title type='text'>that one desire I had</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Dreaming and wishing is easy, whether you would achieve it or not is the question.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was young, I remember wishing and aspiring to study abroad. I remember dreaming about this when I was in high school. Perhaps I was influenced then by the Sweet Valley High pocketbooks I was always reading. Forward to the time when I was in college.  I used to search the Internet and request for information to study abroad, searched for scholarships. When I graduated from college, I said perhaps a two-year course or Master's degree abroad would do fine. All this includes the possibiity of working while pursuing my studies. For 15 years, studying abroad always comes to my mind. I yearn to explore such possibilities... to experience living in another country on my own... to be independent... to go places and know more culture... to experience life more. But then, I realize it could not happen when I don't have the means. Well, maybe someday...I hope...  or maybe, it was not for me.&lt;br /&gt;And I guess it would be better if I would leave my aspirations here...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-2516041751838838293?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2516041751838838293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=2516041751838838293&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2516041751838838293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/2516041751838838293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/that-one-desire-i-had.html' title='that one desire I had'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-7938109737185826184</id><published>2006-08-24T09:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-24T09:18:11.668+08:00</updated><title type='text'>on being a mom</title><content type='html'>being a mother is the greatest fulfillment. it's the greatest thing that ever happened to me. have read this quote before, I just can't remember where.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The moment a child is born, the mother is also born.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She never existed before.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The woman existed, but the mother... never.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The mother is absolutely something new. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-7938109737185826184?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7938109737185826184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=7938109737185826184&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/7938109737185826184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/7938109737185826184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/on-being-mom.html' title='on being a mom'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-1971039871430062468</id><published>2006-08-23T10:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-23T10:55:49.073+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i wanna be rich</title><content type='html'>I am happy with what I have, thankful for the blessings. Yet, if I would have one wish right now, I would want to have abundance. I want to be rich. There, I wouldn't worry about money or the lack of it. I wouldn't fear the future. I wouldn't make a budget and succumb to making a debt if ever. I could be in places, buy whatever I want for me and my family, live in grandeur. Sometimes, I couldn't help but wonder why there are people who have huge amount of money and some really have to struggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say money can't buy happiness. But others  are not happy as they worry to much to survive their daily lives. I've witnessed how some people sell what they have and loan money just to have food for their family. And they feel that they would be happier if they would not worry about money.  I've witnessed how the rich people spend too much and not worry about the lack of money. They could easy spend thousand bucks on one item. They could afford luxury. They are financially blessed, yet they too have their own problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am not poor, but I am not rich either. Maybe I am still blessed, even if I am not lucky. I wouldn't be a hypocrite. Money worries me, sometimes it burdens me. Times when it fills my thoughts and I just felt saddened by such feelings. The future is what scares me. I grew up wth the comforts of life. These I want my family to have. Yet I realize that what I have isn't really enough. My happiness springs from my family and the love in my heart. I am at peace with people. Living is really hard, though. Still, if I could choose to be... I want to be rich.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-1971039871430062468?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1971039871430062468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=1971039871430062468&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/1971039871430062468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/1971039871430062468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-wanna-be-rich.html' title='i wanna be rich'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-3522726407494722341</id><published>2006-08-18T16:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-18T16:50:39.626+08:00</updated><title type='text'>don't fool me</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;true words for her: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;that was such a perfectly nice-image that you put on. pretending all this time that you are the victim. couldn't you admit what you had done? you're so scared of letting people know your true bad side. admit that you have your share messing up. it all points to you- anonymous bitter text messages, foul emails, creating clone accounts. you are full of pretentiousness, even involving your friends... showing immaturity, deceiving. putting myself to blame.... making me look bad... releasing yourself from all these. and placing yourself up in the pedestal... that you are so envied! huh! dream over&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i knew your reasons for befriending me. you are still bitter. you wanted to know me, my life and my past. you acted like you are sorry, that you had moved on, that you wanted to be friends. yet i am real. nothing concerns me.  i stay in the i-don't care mode because that's simply what it is. you get what you deserve... you heard what you wanted to hear. from the very start i knew the true person in you. i won't be fooled. you could not be me, you could not do what i could do. and i am wasting my time now with all these craps. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-3522726407494722341?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3522726407494722341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=3522726407494722341&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/3522726407494722341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/3522726407494722341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/dont-fool-me.html' title='don&apos;t fool me'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-6164575805873598984</id><published>2006-08-10T15:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T15:20:30.539+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my baby boy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/5m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/320/5m.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; @ 5 months&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&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/22765795-6164575805873598984?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6164575805873598984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=6164575805873598984&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6164575805873598984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/6164575805873598984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/my-baby-boy.html' title='my baby boy'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115577928971647727</id><published>2006-08-10T09:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-17T09:48:09.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'>facing it all</title><content type='html'>water flows from the sea to the ocean, embracing the greatness of the waves. I wonder where the wind goes? what direction will it head? I wonder where my life will took me... now that I am not alone... now that I have great responsibilities in my hand. there's no turning back and I don't want to look back. facing it all with masked up courage and strength.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115577928971647727?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115577928971647727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115577928971647727&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115577928971647727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115577928971647727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/facing-it-all.html' title='facing it all'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115500140275564013</id><published>2006-08-08T09:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T09:43:22.766+08:00</updated><title type='text'>thoughts on old age</title><content type='html'>I realize now that my heart always goes for old people. I admire them for the wisdom they possess, the experiences they had, the struggles and pains, their willingness to fight. Maybe it's because my lolo is already on his late 80's. Days are numbered, and I always pray that he'll be more stronger. I thank him for taking take of us when we we're younger... remembering the years when he accompanies and fetch us to school, when he checks on our studies and grades, when he reminds us to eat too much. He had been a good "daddy" to us. We never call him lolo, we call him daddy until now. My kids now call him "daddy lolo".&lt;br /&gt;We visited him last Sunday and I was thankful he's becoming healthier. Unlike before when he was so weak. I wonder how he feels. I wonder how he feels everyday. Yet, I know he's always looking forward to see his children, his grandchilden's and great grandchildrens.&lt;br /&gt;Old folks are longing, they want to feel that they are still needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being old fears me. Fears because of the sickness that I would have... fears of being weak, unworthy, that some people might think I am a burden. Fearing that I could not provide for the medications, of who would take care of me and my husband. I am just praying that my children would grow up to be good children and that they would have partners with a good heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115500140275564013?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115500140275564013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115500140275564013&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115500140275564013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115500140275564013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/thoughts-on-old-age.html' title='thoughts on old age'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115466635058599385</id><published>2006-08-04T12:08:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-04T12:39:10.586+08:00</updated><title type='text'>money talk</title><content type='html'>Have taken time to read very interesting articles on the richness and wealth of some people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Hottest Billionaire Heiresses&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://biz.yahoo.com/special/luxury080306_article3.html"&gt;http://biz.yahoo.com/special/luxury080306_article3.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Places to Live 2006&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The top spot belongs to Fort Collins, Colorado. Great schools, low crime, good jobs in a high-tech economy and a fantastic outdoor life make Fort Collins the No. 1 best place to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://biz.yahoo.com/special/besttowns06.html"&gt;http://biz.yahoo.com/special/besttowns06.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Most Expensive Homes in the U.S. 2006&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the most expensive residences in the country, with prices so astronomical that only a very small handful of very wealthy people could even dream about owning them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://biz.yahoo.com/special/expensivehome06_article1.html"&gt;http://biz.yahoo.com/special/expensivehome06_article1.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.forbes.com/2006/05/19/cx_sc_0522homeslide.html?thisSpeed=15000&amp;partner=yahoo"&gt;http://www.forbes.com/2006/05/19/cx_sc_0522homeslide.html?thisSpeed=15000&amp;amp;partner=yahoo&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The World's Billionaires 2006&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill Gates retains his title as the world's richest person for the twelfth straight year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://biz.yahoo.com/special/bill06_article1.html"&gt;http://biz.yahoo.com/special/bill06_article1.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115466635058599385?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115466635058599385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115466635058599385&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115466635058599385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115466635058599385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/money-talk_04.html' title='money talk'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115466446426790660</id><published>2006-08-04T11:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-04T12:07:44.303+08:00</updated><title type='text'>priceless treasures</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When will I earn enough and spend on the things that I so wanted to have for me and my family? Will there be a time when financial worries would leave? In years time, I would be sending my kids to school... hoping that by that time I would be able to provide them with what is best, and not just settle for less.&lt;br /&gt;There's so many things I yearn to have. Material things that I know would help us, some needed and some would just bring happiness. Dreams of a greater life and of going to places with my family. Will I ever achieve such dreams or leave it now before I worry too much.&lt;br /&gt;True, money is not only the source of happiness. But then, you need it to keep on living, make your family live and have a better life. And there are a lot of people complain and fight over it. Still I am blessed. I have a family of my own. I have kids that bring me so much happiness. My treasures are Priceless... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115466446426790660?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115466446426790660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115466446426790660&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115466446426790660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115466446426790660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/priceless-treasures.html' title='priceless treasures'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115414233669388625</id><published>2006-07-29T11:01:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-29T11:15:04.303+08:00</updated><title type='text'>nice song... great lines</title><content type='html'>A line from the Alchemist book of Paolo Coehlo:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When everyday seems the same, it is because we have stopped realizing the good things that appear in our life...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A line from the book Tuesdays with Morrie:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Life is a series of pulls, back and forth. You want to do something, but you are bound to do something else. Something hurts you, yet you know you shouldn't. You take certain things for granted, yet you know you should not take anthing for granted... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A song from the Wedding Singer, performed by Adam Sandler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wanna make you smile whenever you're sad&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Carry you around when your arthritis is bad&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;All I wanna do is grow old with you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll get your medicine when your tummy aches&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Build you a fire if the furnace breaks&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh it could be so nice, growing old with you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll miss you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kiss you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Give you my coat when you are cold&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Need you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Feed you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Even let ya hold the remote control&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So let me do the dishes in our kitchen sink&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Put you to bed if you've had too much to drink&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I could be the man who grows old with you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wanna grow old with you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115414233669388625?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115414233669388625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115414233669388625&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115414233669388625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115414233669388625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/nice-song-great-lines.html' title='nice song... great lines'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115380110088714862</id><published>2006-07-25T12:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T12:18:20.900+08:00</updated><title type='text'>cadbury chocolate salmonella scare</title><content type='html'>I love chocolates and Cadbury is one of my favorite! Recently, there had been emails and text messages circulating about the salmonella in cadbury.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have read the news in the Internet about this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;More than a million Cadbury chocolate bars are to be removed from shelves amid fears that they may be contaminated with salmonella. The products affected are Dairy Milk Turkish (250g), Dairy Milk Caramel (250g), Dairy Milk Mint (250g), Dairy Milk 8 chunk, the 1kg Dairy Milk, the 105 gram chocolate button Easter egg, and the 10 pence 'Freddo' bar.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/5112470.stm"&gt;http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/5112470.stm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115380110088714862?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115380110088714862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115380110088714862&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115380110088714862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115380110088714862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/cadbury-chocolate-salmonella-scare.html' title='cadbury chocolate salmonella scare'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115379791395779386</id><published>2006-07-25T11:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T11:25:13.966+08:00</updated><title type='text'>on destiny</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Destiny is not a matter of chance; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;but a matter of choice. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;t is not a thing to be waited for, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It is a thing to be achieved. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-- William Jennings Bryant&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had more... wishing I could easily change situations. Life had made me different... a far cry from the person I wanted to be.&lt;br /&gt;Living had never been easy... oftentimes thinking and questioning my destiny, the choice I had made. Finding myself in the dark, finding it difficult to stand up. Wanting to paint  life with colors... wanting to revise and create a new version.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115379791395779386?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115379791395779386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115379791395779386&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115379791395779386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115379791395779386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/on-destiny.html' title='on destiny'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115379230801839028</id><published>2006-07-17T09:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T09:51:48.020+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Mama</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/1600/july1_copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/200/july1_copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115379230801839028?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115379230801839028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115379230801839028&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115379230801839028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115379230801839028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/happy-birthday-mama.html' title='Happy Birthday Mama'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115277680365405746</id><published>2006-07-13T15:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-13T15:46:43.653+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my reflection</title><content type='html'>It was about 12 midnight and I am still awake. Turned on the PC and decided to make a scrapbook. Browsed through our pictures a year ago. Happy with the realization I had seen. How I look so fresh, the radiance in my eyes and the good body shape I wear. That wa just a year ago. Have I changed now that I've given birth a few months back? Yes. I've gained more than 10 pounds and I need a hair makeover. Whew! I am not vain. But of course, I have to take extra care on myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115277680365405746?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115277680365405746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115277680365405746&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115277680365405746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115277680365405746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/my-reflection.html' title='my reflection'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115277648902571089</id><published>2006-07-13T15:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-13T15:41:29.036+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my good heart</title><content type='html'>Michelle sent me a message yesterday. She told me that she still wants to befriend me after what had happened between us... that she feel that I am a good person, but because of the people around us and the situation we are into, we always end up having confrontations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was weird. What are her reasons this time? I am in a good mood yesterday, so I decided to tell her that if it's right, if she had truly let go of the past, if this is not a bluff, well maybe then we could be friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I thank her for reaching out. I am really thankful. Yet, I knew the personality of this person. I am preparing myself for another dose of her extreme bitterness towards me. I don't know, maybe she just wanted to know something this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am being careful. I've learned my lessons. I knew what kind of person she is.&lt;br /&gt;But I am being real.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115277648902571089?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115277648902571089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115277648902571089&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115277648902571089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115277648902571089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/my-good-heart.html' title='my good heart'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115266973556377181</id><published>2006-07-12T09:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T10:02:15.563+08:00</updated><title type='text'>raining randomness</title><content type='html'>It was raining hard today when I woke up. How I wanted to crawl back in my bed. Well, just lucky I have no problem going to work. Thankful for my father's car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My random ramblings for the past days:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July 5&lt;br /&gt;+ 9pm at Baywalk with my kids, sisters and nephew&lt;br /&gt;+ transferred to Harbor Square&lt;br /&gt;+ midnight snack at Iceberg's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July 9&lt;br /&gt;+ visited mommy lola &amp; daddy lolo&lt;br /&gt;+ my kids received money&lt;br /&gt;+ got to see cute baby Fiona, kuya's daughter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July 10&lt;br /&gt;+ Monday, glad I was not late&lt;br /&gt;+ had some chit-chats with a girl working in the same building I am&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115266973556377181?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115266973556377181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115266973556377181&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115266973556377181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115266973556377181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/raining-randomness.html' title='raining randomness'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115207468942642685</id><published>2006-07-05T12:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-10T16:25:06.223+08:00</updated><title type='text'>united 93</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/1600/Unted_93.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watched the advance screening of the movie, United 93 at Glorietta 4 last night. Here's some of the reviews and synopsis I had read in the Internet:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/320/Unted_93.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;United 93 tells the story of the passengers and crew of United Airlines Flight 93, the fourth plane hijacked on Sept. 11, 2001. It begins with a scene of a man praying softly in Arabic. It ends in the chaos of a falling airliner, with the ground spinning up as passengers fight for control with hijackers. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The scenes take us in real time from takeoff to the hijacking to the realization by those on-board that their plane was part of a coordinated attack against the United States. The previous three planes had already hit their targets, the two World Trade Towers and the Pentagon. United 93 was aimed for the Nation's Capital in Washington, but before the target was reached, the passengers aboard learned what had already been happening on the ground through use of cell and air phones. Realizing they had only one chance to survive or, at the very least, stop the terrorists from achieving their goal, these passengers rose up and attacked the terrorists, causing the plane to crash and avoid further destruction. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We see the pilots stroll casually to work, checking the controls, chatting amiably. Capt. Jason M. Dahl (actual United pilot JJ Johnson) plans to take his wife to London for their anniversary. First officer Leroy Horner (pilot Gary Commock) has an 11-month-old baby just beginning to sleep through the night. We listen to the flight attendants gossip ("She's got a crush on that maintenance man") and overhear the passengers make small talk ("I've got three kids at home"). &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;People on board are ordinary travelers on the flight headed for San Francisco. Using airphones and cell phones, they learn of the attacks on the twin towers, and realize that they must act, not only for themselves, but for the sake of innocent people on the ground. there is one terrorists who have been the pilot, waited and seemed reluctant, but then he's willing to die. if it had not been for the 30minutes delay, they must have reached their target. The famous cry, “let’s roll” is spoken, not as a battle cry, but as a resolute statement, when there is no choice but to act. Later in the film, the passengers pray in the face of danger. In an ironic way, terrorists and passengers are united in prayer. Regardless of our faith tradition, we turn to prayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;British filmmaker Paul Greengrass has done an admirable job bringing this sensitive story to the screen. It is a fitting tribute to ordinary people caught up in a tragedy they could never have predicted. It focus on our common humanity, and the heroic courage of ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances . It does not try to explain or condemn. It is designed as a tale of heroism, but we understand it as a tale of terror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.post-gazette.com/headlines/20011028flt93mainstoryp7.asp"&gt;http://www.post-gazette.com/headlines/20011028flt93mainstoryp7.asp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://unitedheroes.com"&gt;http://unitedheroes.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_Airlines_Flight_93"&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_Airlines_Flight_93&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cbc.ca/fifth/thepilot/note.html"&gt;http://www.cbc.ca/fifth/thepilot/note.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have read and learned more about the September 11, 2201 incident, biographies of those in flight 93, the terrorists and the three planes that have reached their target. I could say that this is a heartbreaking yet remarkable film. The people in the flight had gained my respect.&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/22765795-115207468942642685?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115207468942642685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115207468942642685&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115207468942642685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115207468942642685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/united-93.html' title='united 93'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115190190238854343</id><published>2006-07-03T12:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-03T12:45:02.400+08:00</updated><title type='text'>this time</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Oh there might have been time to be me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;For myself, for myself&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;There's so many things that she wishes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She don't even know what she's missin'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And that's how she knows that she missed&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-Sandra, Barry Manilow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cry. Though tears are not enough. Tears and feelings doesn't count anymore. Regrets. I can't go back. Questions. I knew the answer somehow. There's no sense feeling the hurt. Just need to be strong. This is life. Deep breathe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115190190238854343?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115190190238854343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115190190238854343&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115190190238854343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115190190238854343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/this-time.html' title='this time'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115156929121621308</id><published>2006-06-29T16:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-29T16:21:31.230+08:00</updated><title type='text'>where is hope</title><content type='html'>I knew what I've got isn't enough... making it harder to live.&lt;br /&gt;Mind is beng pre occupied with the  unfairness of life.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm not just lucky. Maybe I'm just scared.&lt;br /&gt;I am tasting the reality of what life and living should be.&lt;br /&gt;Dreaming is easy. Living the dream is different.&lt;br /&gt;My spirit is discouraged. Hope seems to be out of sight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115156929121621308?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115156929121621308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115156929121621308&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115156929121621308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115156929121621308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/where-is-hope.html' title='where is hope'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115130578548230452</id><published>2006-06-26T15:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-03T12:46:57.186+08:00</updated><title type='text'>always on your side</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;My yesterdays are all boxed up and neatly put away&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But every now and then you come to mind&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cause you were always waiting to be picked to play the game&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But when your name was called, you found a place to hide&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When you knew that I was always on your side&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-Always on Your Side, Sheryl Crow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115130578548230452?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115130578548230452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115130578548230452&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115130578548230452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115130578548230452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/always-on-your-side.html' title='always on your side'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115379194319052031</id><published>2006-06-19T00:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T11:13:42.636+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Coordinator</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/1600/cza1_copy.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/200/cza1_copy.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;*The Wedding Coordinators*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Lee-Ignacio Wedding&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;June 18, 2006 - Coral Ballroom. Manila Pavillion &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115379194319052031?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115379194319052031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115379194319052031&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115379194319052031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115379194319052031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/wedding-coordinator.html' title='Wedding Coordinator'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115266630159643771</id><published>2006-06-17T09:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-13T15:48:58.053+08:00</updated><title type='text'>disturbing my peace</title><content type='html'>Once again I heard from Michelle. All these time she was thinking of me and again disturbed my peaceful mode. I don't know what she wanted this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I told her these words:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I should be throwing back at you all those text messages, emails and friendster messages I continuously received from you. I should be slapping you with hurtful words for all those accusations you had pointed at me. But did I ever did that to you? No. Because all this time I choose to let it all pass. I don't want to waste my time on you, you're never ending accusations, and you're senseless words. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I was not hurt and I am not bitter. I am happy hearing you and "your so-called words". As what everyone had told me, I should be delighted that you had been accustomed to making use of the words I had used...claiming and expressing it your way. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tell yourself to stop from doing all these things. It is only then that you and your family would be at peace. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, I heard how she uses the words I had thrown at her. Thus, it made me say that she should save all my messages as she could use it in the future. I had too much of her. I had chosen this time to reply to her text messages to put an end. I hope she would stop blaming me for what is happening to her and her family. I don't care what's going on in their lives. I knew from the very start how she despises me. In one of her text message, she admitted that she was indeed bitter because she was jealous. Well then, that sums it up. In my case, I have nothing to think about... I have nothing to lose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115266630159643771?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115266630159643771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115266630159643771&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115266630159643771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115266630159643771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/disturbing-my-peace.html' title='disturbing my peace'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115042276790909405</id><published>2006-06-16T09:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-24T09:38:11.526+08:00</updated><title type='text'>why would anyone hate me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: rgb(216,233,237); TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;div style="PADDING-RIGHT: 0pt; PADDING-LEFT: 0pt; BACKGROUND: rgb(129,172,201); PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-TOP: 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="PADDING-RIGHT: 3px; PADDING-LEFT: 3px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 3px; COLOR: rgb(255,255,255); PADDING-TOP: 3pxfont-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why would anyone hate you?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-TOP: 5px; FONT-FAMILY: Arial; BACKGROUND-COLOR: rgb(216,233,237); TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/M/mullfro/1060455445_uizperfect.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People hate you because you are perfect. You may see no problem with being perfect, but your perfectness makes people feel inferior and then they start hating being around you. They're basically jealous.&lt;br /&gt;Take this &lt;a style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=17&amp;url=http://www.quizilla.com/users/mullfro/quizzes/Why+would+anyone+hate+you%3F" target="quizilla"&gt;quiz&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://www.quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=18&amp;amp;url=http://www.quizilla.com" target="quizilla"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://www.quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=21&amp;url=http://www.quizilla.com/register" target="quizilla"&gt;Join&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://www.quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=20&amp;amp;url=http://www.quizilla.com/makeaquiz.php" target="quizilla"&gt;Make A Quiz&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=42&amp;url=http://www.quizilla.com/users/mullfro/quizzes/" target="quizilla"&gt;More Quizzes&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://www.quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=19&amp;amp;url=http://www.quizilla.com/com" target="quizilla"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115042276790909405?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115042276790909405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115042276790909405&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115042276790909405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115042276790909405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/why-would-anyone-hate-me.html' title='why would anyone hate me?'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-3376907408760229533</id><published>2006-06-11T10:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-14T10:41:25.635+08:00</updated><title type='text'>happy day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/family.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;these photos were taken during Ali's (my cousin's' daughter) 7th birthday at Mcdonald's&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-3376907408760229533?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3376907408760229533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=3376907408760229533&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/3376907408760229533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/3376907408760229533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/happy-day.html' title='happy day'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114984517983815693</id><published>2006-06-09T17:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-24T09:14:24.000+08:00</updated><title type='text'>being true</title><content type='html'>Being true... a yearning. sometimes small words spoken could gives my spirit a lift... sincere flattery brings a different feeling. Looking into the mirror, my eyes are glowing and my lips are smiling. Sometimes, it really helps to be admired... though this is passing, it would eventually fade out.&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;Attended Elmer and Lorna's wedding yesterday at the Our Lady of Grace Church... met some of my husband's officemate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114984517983815693?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114984517983815693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114984517983815693&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114984517983815693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114984517983815693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/being-true.html' title='being true'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114967243824744494</id><published>2006-06-04T07:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-07T17:27:19.160+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It was Kimo's interment yesterday at Taytay Catholic Cemetery. His family, relatives and friends were there. My mom, sis and me joined in walking from the church to the cemetery. A tear fell when we stopped at the studio where he worked together with his dad. It had been a very emotional moment to the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nakakalungkot nung nalaman ko na wala ka na. Pero sa kabilang banda, alam ko na mas masaya ka dyan ngayon. Wala ka nang problema, wala nang tampo at wala ka nang iisipin pa. Marami ang nagmamahal sa'yo. Salamat sa mga panahon na nakasama ka namin. Kahit nagkikita lang tayo tuwing may okasyon, naging importante ka sa pamilya namin. Ngayon, wala ka na. Hindi ka na namin makikita pag may okasyon sa pamilya. Matagal pa bago tayo muling magkita. Ginawan kita ng memorial site at napakarami na ang bumisita sayo dun. Sana nabasa mo lahat ng messages para sayo. Alam ko nakikita mo kami. Lagi ka naming ipagdarasal. Hindi ka namin makakalimutan. Paalam.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is so hard to accept that he passed away at a very young age. But then, God has a better plan for him. And I know that he is in a better place now. I would surely miss my dear cousin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114967243824744494?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114967243824744494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114967243824744494&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114967243824744494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114967243824744494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/it-was-kimos-interment-yesterday-at.html' title=''/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114967141695831640</id><published>2006-05-29T17:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-07T17:10:16.980+08:00</updated><title type='text'>tribute to kimo</title><content type='html'>I've created a memorial site for Kimo. It's my way of remembering him. I know he would appreciate it anyway. I'll be sending the link to some of his friends at Friendster and to our relatives. Here they could light a candle, share condolences and share a memory of him. The site is &lt;a href="http://www.lerwinkimreyes.last-memories.com"&gt;http://www.lerwinkimreyes.last-memories.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114967141695831640?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114967141695831640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114967141695831640&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114967141695831640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114967141695831640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/tribute-to-kimo.html' title='tribute to kimo'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114906648896883900</id><published>2006-05-29T17:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-31T17:08:08.983+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye, Kimo</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/1600/BurningCandle.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/200/BurningCandle.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"As long as you remember someone, they will live forever in our hearts... in our minds"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I offer this candle to you, my dear cousin. I pray that you would find happiness in heaven. May your soul rest in eternal peace. We will surely miss you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paalam, Kimo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114906648896883900?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114906648896883900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114906648896883900&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114906648896883900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114906648896883900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/goodbye-kimo.html' title='Goodbye, Kimo'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114766793739110400</id><published>2006-05-15T12:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T12:38:57.403+08:00</updated><title type='text'>time... out of nowhere</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;time... out of nowhere thoughts&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;+ the winds of time are too strong&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;+ time changes continuously, is love never changing?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;+ memories overflowing, painfully stopping time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;+ until time had passed by&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114766793739110400?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114766793739110400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114766793739110400&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114766793739110400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114766793739110400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/time-out-of-nowhere.html' title='time... out of nowhere'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115111204972668481</id><published>2006-05-14T23:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-24T09:24:18.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'>mother's day</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/1600/mother.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/200/mother.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Mother's Day Dinner with my family at Guilly's Island, QC&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115111204972668481?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115111204972668481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115111204972668481&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115111204972668481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115111204972668481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/mothers-day.html' title='mother&apos;s day'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114766831961907127</id><published>2006-05-12T12:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T12:45:19.620+08:00</updated><title type='text'>just maybe</title><content type='html'>Maybe I will start it this way... &lt;em&gt;Sometimes I find myself drifting back in time to the memories I hold so close to my heart. It was only in that place and time where I can recapture the feelings and moments we once felt. There I find myself to the love that transcends time and fuels an eternal fire that burns forever...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And would end it with - &lt;em&gt;But then circumstances higher and stronger than our own had already decided our fate... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114766831961907127?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114766831961907127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114766831961907127&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114766831961907127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114766831961907127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/just-maybe.html' title='just maybe'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114731880421814729</id><published>2006-05-11T11:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T11:40:04.230+08:00</updated><title type='text'>her ideas are mine</title><content type='html'>Whew! Who would believe that she's not Michelle when everything points to her. Claiming that she is not. Even if she changes the profile name on that Friendster account, the user ID is still the same. She can't fool me? I'm a smart woman! hehehe...and I am just making fun of the whole situation.&lt;br /&gt;Funny how she say that "Michelle won't waste her time" --- but that's what she's doing now... "Michelle is pretty compared to you"---- c'mon I don't care whose prettier... so I tell her that she's right, she is prettier than Ms. Universe! hehehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, it's not funny when she tries to copy my thoughts. She doesn't have a mind of her own... she lack originality. She always tries to duplicate my words... a real copycat. When I posted this - "Imitation is the greatest form of flattery"... I guess it's not a profound display of someone trying to be me"... She posted back saying that someone wants to be in her shoes! It's exactly the same thing...and she got that idea from me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114731880421814729?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114731880421814729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114731880421814729&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114731880421814729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114731880421814729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/her-ideas-are-mine.html' title='her ideas are mine'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114725318303066933</id><published>2006-05-10T17:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T17:26:23.040+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am ME</title><content type='html'>In your fantasy&lt;br /&gt;In your world of make believe&lt;br /&gt;You can be ME.&lt;br /&gt;Imitate everything&lt;br /&gt;Copy my words&lt;br /&gt;Claim that my thoughts are yours.&lt;br /&gt;In reality,&lt;br /&gt;You can never have what I have&lt;br /&gt;You can never be ME.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114725318303066933?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114725318303066933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114725318303066933&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114725318303066933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114725318303066933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-am-me.html' title='I am ME'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114680382495049902</id><published>2006-05-05T12:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T12:37:04.960+08:00</updated><title type='text'>desiring to be ME</title><content type='html'>Should I feel flattered on what she had done?... Using my picture in her Friendster account. It's not funny, it's really irritating. I guess she admire me so much! hehehe... and maybe she desires to be ME! What she had done is a profound display of her insecurity...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114680382495049902?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114680382495049902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114680382495049902&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114680382495049902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114680382495049902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/desiring-to-be-me.html' title='desiring to be ME'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114680421414328371</id><published>2006-05-02T12:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T12:43:34.143+08:00</updated><title type='text'>thinking a thousand times</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I felt fed up from this dead-end monotony. Knowing that I could provide more, but was misused... often times waiting... nothing worth while. A shift, a change could be necessary.  Still, I could not trade the little freedom I have, the stress free environment. This  has been in my system... something I had been accustomed to. And this iis better than nothing. Changing means I have to searched, start to adapt, to be accepted again, to prove myself... before, I embrace change but now I have to think a thousand times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114680421414328371?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114680421414328371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114680421414328371&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114680421414328371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114680421414328371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/thinking-thousand-times.html' title='thinking a thousand times'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-115111277788065386</id><published>2006-04-29T23:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-24T09:32:57.880+08:00</updated><title type='text'>at paradise</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/1600/28816028916935l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/320/28816028916935l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;CGI summer outing with friends at Paradise Resort, Bulacan&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-115111277788065386?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115111277788065386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=115111277788065386&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115111277788065386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/115111277788065386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/at-paradise.html' title='at paradise'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114664107640097975</id><published>2006-04-28T17:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T15:24:36.400+08:00</updated><title type='text'>too real</title><content type='html'>Breathing out the words... waiting right here.&lt;br /&gt;Just dreams. Longing endlessly. Neverending.&lt;br /&gt;Timeless yet bounded.&lt;br /&gt;World still turning differently.&lt;br /&gt;Feeling the presence.&lt;br /&gt;It was there.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes near yet too far.&lt;br /&gt;Someplace, somewhere already forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;Strangers now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114664107640097975?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114664107640097975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114664107640097975&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114664107640097975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114664107640097975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/too-real.html' title='too real'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114664060323091644</id><published>2006-04-27T17:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T15:16:43.230+08:00</updated><title type='text'>happy to be me</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Imitation is the greatest form of flattery.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I feel flattered when someone tries to be like me? Imitating my words, trying to be like me. When before, that person laughed at me and told me that I am like a poet. Yet now, she was trying to be what I am... surrounding herself with the same principles and ideas I have. Her insecurities are upfront! It was also amusing to know that she familiarizes herself with the products I am using. Indeed, she loathe me yet wanted to be like me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114664060323091644?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114664060323091644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114664060323091644&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114664060323091644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114664060323091644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/happy-to-be-me.html' title='happy to be me'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114664025195827784</id><published>2006-04-22T14:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T15:10:51.970+08:00</updated><title type='text'>passing time</title><content type='html'>went to baywalk yesterday. foodtrip. what a great place to see lots of people having fun. it was already late and we're home by 1 am!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114664025195827784?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114664025195827784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114664025195827784&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114664025195827784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114664025195827784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/passing-time.html' title='passing time'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114541915585079680</id><published>2006-04-19T11:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T11:59:15.863+08:00</updated><title type='text'>leave me alone</title><content type='html'>I bet, they are interested in checking out my profile at Friendster. I have no odea who created that account, but I knew Michelle is behind it. They are sending me friend requests. First it was from IJA Beauties, of course I wouldn't accept it as I did not studied in that school and I am not from Cavite... their stupidity strucks! Then they change the name into "hot chicks" and have send me messages... thinking I would accept their request! They should just leave me alone...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114541915585079680?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114541915585079680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114541915585079680&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114541915585079680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114541915585079680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/leave-me-alone.html' title='leave me alone'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114534850012553983</id><published>2006-04-18T16:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T16:21:40.140+08:00</updated><title type='text'>whew... whatever</title><content type='html'>I can't help it. I just want to eat. A lot have noticed that I had grown fat. Whew! Of course I can't just easily shrink back into my body before. Hmmm, I couldn't fit into some of my clothes! I just gave birth two months ago and I still have those post-pregnancy pounds left! Still, I don't limit myself. Maybe I don't give much attention to my food intake. Whew! Maybe I'll check my food intakes sooner... but not now! Whew.. .whatever! hehehe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114534850012553983?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114534850012553983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114534850012553983&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114534850012553983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114534850012553983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/whew-whatever.html' title='whew... whatever'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114784118576353571</id><published>2006-04-16T23:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-17T12:46:25.776+08:00</updated><title type='text'>April 16 Celebration</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/1600/d406scd.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/200/d406scd.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/1600/a7dcscd.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/200/a7dcscd.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/1600/7038scd.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/200/7038scd.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114784118576353571?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114784118576353571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114784118576353571&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114784118576353571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114784118576353571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/april-16-celebration.html' title='April 16 Celebration'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114481671702008112</id><published>2006-04-12T12:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T12:38:37.036+08:00</updated><title type='text'>those words</title><content type='html'>I Love You Still... those very words...&lt;br /&gt;Breathing out the feelings through all these years.&lt;br /&gt;Never changing with time.&lt;br /&gt;But living differently.&lt;br /&gt;Still, destiny has its own way, has its own reasons why.&lt;br /&gt;How sad it had been.&lt;br /&gt;Tears.&lt;br /&gt;Reality.&lt;br /&gt;Could not change what is and what would be.&lt;br /&gt;Living with it.&lt;br /&gt;Acceptance is hard.&lt;br /&gt;This is true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114481671702008112?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114481671702008112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114481671702008112&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114481671702008112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114481671702008112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/those-words.html' title='those words'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114524902027772986</id><published>2006-04-11T12:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T12:43:40.286+08:00</updated><title type='text'>double celebration</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/1600/invite.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="152" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/200/invite.jpg" width="112" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On April 16, we would be celebrating the Christening of my new baby and the 2nd Birthday of my daughter... a double celebration!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114524902027772986?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114524902027772986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114524902027772986&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114524902027772986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114524902027772986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/double-celebration.html' title='double celebration'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114474085551169981</id><published>2006-04-10T17:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T15:34:15.523+08:00</updated><title type='text'>back to work</title><content type='html'>Leave is over... It's back to work for me. Spending more time at the office, but I know I could still manage to spend that much needed quality time for my family. It's hard though. But then, everything is a sacrifice... I just have to be strong...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114474085551169981?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114474085551169981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114474085551169981&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114474085551169981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114474085551169981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/back-to-work.html' title='back to work'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114433387668380657</id><published>2006-04-06T22:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T22:31:16.696+08:00</updated><title type='text'>sighs tonight</title><content type='html'>i breathe a sigh&lt;br /&gt;sacrifice&lt;br /&gt;a huge amount of it&lt;br /&gt;forgetting the dreams&lt;br /&gt;neglecting it all&lt;br /&gt;not minding oneself&lt;br /&gt;again, i sigh&lt;br /&gt;worthy... yes.&lt;br /&gt;ears to listen&lt;br /&gt;to share&lt;br /&gt;to enlighten the worry&lt;br /&gt;nowhere to be found&lt;br /&gt;it would be this way...&lt;br /&gt;who would care?&lt;br /&gt;deep sigh&lt;br /&gt;the starts are out&lt;br /&gt;wishing like a child&lt;br /&gt;tonight I'll just sleep&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114433387668380657?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114433387668380657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114433387668380657&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114433387668380657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114433387668380657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/sighs-tonight.html' title='sighs tonight'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114550661953875567</id><published>2006-04-01T20:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T12:16:59.550+08:00</updated><title type='text'>almost like</title><content type='html'>walking by... heart skips a beat at the sight&lt;br /&gt;a familiar figure from the past&lt;br /&gt;seen through these blurry eyes&lt;br /&gt;like a ghost&lt;br /&gt;almost near... you feel your hands getting cold&lt;br /&gt;questions, fears&lt;br /&gt;why here?&lt;br /&gt;what to do?&lt;br /&gt;nothing... just continue walking towards&lt;br /&gt;and you breathe...&lt;br /&gt;glad it was a mistake&lt;br /&gt;relax now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114550661953875567?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114550661953875567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114550661953875567&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114550661953875567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114550661953875567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/almost-like.html' title='almost like'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114370948762113157</id><published>2006-03-30T16:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T17:04:47.633+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the Notebook</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/1600/notebook.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 141px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" height="163" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/320/notebook.jpg" width="141" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I just finished reading the novel The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks. A story of love-lost-and-found-again. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The story opens present-day in a nursing home, where an elderly man reads bits and pieces of a love story of two young lovers from a notebook to his female companion. Young Noah Calhoun, a lumberyard worker, is instantly smitten with fifteen-year-old Allie Hamilton, the daughter of a well-to-do Southern family who is spending the summer at their vacation home in North Carolina. Allie's parents disapprove of their relationship, and Noah and Allie are separated. However, Noah and Allie's paths cross again seven years later, but Allie is engaged to wealthy Lon Hammond.  - From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He presented a question all but universal in appeal: What would happen if two people were given a second chance at the love of a lifetime? According to Nicholas Sparks. "When love is real, it doesn't matter what turns the road takes. When love is real, the joys and possibilities are endless."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The notebook is about finding faith, hope and most importantly, love. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Quotes that inspired me--- &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;+ There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I have loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me this has always been enough.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;+ You are every reason, every hope, and every dream I've ever had, and no matter what happens to us in the future, every day we are together is the greatest day of my life. I will always be yours. And, my darling, you will always be mine. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;+ My daddy used to tell me 'the first time you fall in love it changes your life forever, and no matter how hard you try, the feelin' never goes away. This girl you been tellin' me about was your first love. And no matter what you do, she'll stay with you forever. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;+ Poets often describe love as an emotion that we can't control, one that overwhelms logic and common sense. That's what it was like for me. I didn't plan on falling in love with you, and I doubt if you planned on falling in love with me. But once we met, it was clear that neither of us could control what was happening to us. We fell in love, despite our differences, and once we did, something rare and beautiful was created. For me, love like that has happened only once, and that's why every minute we spent together has been seared in my memory. I'll never forget a single moment of it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;+ It's not about keeping your promises, it's about following your heart.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;+ The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds. And that's what you've give me. That's what I'd hope to give to you forever.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;+My dearest Allie,I don't know what to say anymore except that I couldn't sleep last night because I knew that it is over between us. It is a different feeling for me, one that I never expected, but looking back, I suppose it couldn't have ended another way. You and I were different. We came from different worlds, and yet you were the one who taught me the value of love. You showed me what it was like to care for another, and I am a better man because of it. I don't want you to ever forget that. I am not bitter because of what has happened. On the contrary. I am secure in knowing that what we had was real, and I am happy we were able to come together for even a short period of time. And if, in some distand place in the future, we see each other in our new lives, I will smile at you with joy, and remember how we spent a summer beneath the trees, learning from each other and growing in love. And maybe, for a brief moment, you'll feel it too, and you'll smile back, and savor the memories we will always share together. I love you, Allie. Noah&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114370948762113157?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114370948762113157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114370948762113157&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114370948762113157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114370948762113157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/03/notebook.html' title='the Notebook'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114439259193489378</id><published>2006-03-30T14:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-07T14:49:51.946+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am a woman</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I am a woman that is beautiful inside and out, filled with joy and pride.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am a woman as graceful as a butterfly, as woman should be seen and not heard.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am a woman that is cunning, a woman of skill and knowledge.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am a woman with strength, to knock down any boundaries keeping me from my journeys of life.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am a woman that dream to have a life of an angel with never ending love and happiness.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am a woman that’s your lover and friend, keep you feeling loved and secure.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am a woman of respect and admiration; respecting and admiring you mind body and soul.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am a woman with a passionate kiss with lips as soft as fresh rose petals, I leave you wanting and wishing for more.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am a woman with a charm that’s as radiant as the sunshine.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am a woman full of laughter, giggles and grins, which is the medicine of the soul.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am a woman with my own identity, look into my eyes and you’ll see who I am.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114439259193489378?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114439259193489378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114439259193489378&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114439259193489378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114439259193489378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-am-woman.html' title='I am a woman'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114549813629829651</id><published>2006-03-28T13:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T09:55:31.050+08:00</updated><title type='text'>family outing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/1600/d3a2scd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5440/1429/200/d3a2scd.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family outing yesterday was fun. Lots of food, songs and laughter. We spent the day at a private pool in Laguna. There was a billiard table and a karaoke machine. It was the first outing of my new baby boy. Whew... I still could not take a swim and accompany my daughter in the pool, as I am still in the recovery period. Well, seeing relatives having fun is one great moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114549813629829651?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114549813629829651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114549813629829651&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114549813629829651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114549813629829651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/03/family-outing.html' title='family outing'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114480656184831262</id><published>2006-03-20T09:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T09:49:21.860+08:00</updated><title type='text'>just when I thought</title><content type='html'>Michelle admitted before that she was jealous of me and that she is not at peace. I know she should not feel that way as I was just a person in Vincent's past. I know she just need more assurance that Vincent loves her so much. She hated me. She wanted me to look bad. I bet she was spreading stories to people who knew me. But then, I know myself more.&lt;br /&gt;I was not the one who took the first step of befriending Lora or Michelle. Now they are accusing me of such! That I befriend them just to make them do the things I want and that I was using them?! This is what I get for being nice and offering a door to people whom I thought are real...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114480656184831262?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114480656184831262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114480656184831262&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114480656184831262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114480656184831262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/03/just-when-i-thought.html' title='just when I thought'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114354016371042229</id><published>2006-03-19T17:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-28T18:02:43.723+08:00</updated><title type='text'>remembrances</title><content type='html'>Looking back. Looking into.&lt;br /&gt;There are events in my life that made me remember what was and what had been...&lt;br /&gt;I had changed... my thoughts, my views are now different. &lt;br /&gt;Yet not totally, some things just remain...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114354016371042229?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114354016371042229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114354016371042229&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114354016371042229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114354016371042229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/03/remembrances.html' title='remembrances'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-482064079712621752</id><published>2006-03-18T10:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-14T10:38:51.615+08:00</updated><title type='text'>adorable skylah</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/1600/kyla.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/227/2779/200/kyla.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skylah looks so adorable in this gown. She was so tired that she had slept when the party started. Nevertheless, she slept only for a few minuts and woke up when its time for us to be photographed together with the Jem. She was staring when the 18 roses began to dance with the debutante. She was also fascinated with the water fountain in the ballroom. When it was time for the guests to dance, my sisters and my mom took her to the dancefloor. She really loves to dance. Maybe she would be a good dancer when she rows up. The band had already packed their things, no one was on the dancefloor. Yet she still wants to...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-482064079712621752?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/482064079712621752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=482064079712621752&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/482064079712621752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/482064079712621752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/09/adorable-skylah.html' title='adorable skylah'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114290162939543375</id><published>2006-03-15T08:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-21T08:40:29.406+08:00</updated><title type='text'>sigh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Analyzing my life,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What I hoped, what it really was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Accepting my destiny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Contented.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Happy at most times,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sometimes trying...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Forgetting the emptiness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Closing my eyes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I slept...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Heartaching dreams and trears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Woke up exhausted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This is not real,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Just fears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sigh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114290162939543375?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114290162939543375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114290162939543375&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114290162939543375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114290162939543375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/03/sigh.html' title='sigh'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114181423148302915</id><published>2006-03-08T18:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T18:37:11.493+08:00</updated><title type='text'>on being happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;Being happy doesn't mean everything is perfect... it means you have decided to see things beyond the imperfections&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114181423148302915?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114181423148302915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114181423148302915&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114181423148302915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114181423148302915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/03/on-being-happy.html' title='on being happy'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114163475598977410</id><published>2006-03-06T16:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T17:26:53.090+08:00</updated><title type='text'>this interests me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;By the River Piedra, I sat down and wept. There is a legend that everthing that falls in the water of this river - leaves, insects, the feathers of birds - is transformed into the rocks that make the riverbed. If only I could tear out my heart and hurl it into the current, then my pain and longing would be over, and I could finally forget.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;By the River Piedra, I sat down and wept.The winter air chills the tears on my cheeks, and my tears fall into the cold waters that course past me. . Somewhere this river joins another, then another, until - far from my heart and sight - all of them merge with the sea.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;May my tears run just as far that my love might never know that one day I cried for him. May my tears run just as far, that I might forget the river piedra, the monastary, the church in the Pyrenees, the mists, and the paths we walked together. I shall forget the roads, the mountains, and the field of dreams - the dreams that will never come true...&lt;br /&gt;I remember my "magic moment" -that instant when a "yes" or a "no" can change one's life forever. It seems so long ago now. It is hard to believe that it was only last week that I had found my love once again, and then lost him.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;By The River Piedra by Paolo Coelho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114163475598977410?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114163475598977410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114163475598977410&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114163475598977410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114163475598977410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/03/this-interests-me.html' title='this interests me'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114163504582610643</id><published>2006-03-02T16:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T17:26:34.200+08:00</updated><title type='text'>music of my life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;the music of my life plays on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;regardless of things past&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;or of things yet to come&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;or of things that could've been&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;but never will...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114163504582610643?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114163504582610643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114163504582610643&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114163504582610643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114163504582610643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/03/music-of-my-life.html' title='music of my life'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114480578794879575</id><published>2006-03-01T09:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T09:36:27.966+08:00</updated><title type='text'>her bluff messages</title><content type='html'>I'm getting used to receiving senseless text messages from Michelle. Messages containing accusations, words that are full of hate and sometimes even forwarded messages. Imagine that! Maybe she doesn't have anything else to do and she's wasting her time on me. Whew! And recently she texted me that I went to Landmark just to see Vincent... whew! How could that happen when the only place I had went to recently was my Mommy Lola's house and the hospital. She should check her messages... all are bluff!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114480578794879575?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114480578794879575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114480578794879575&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114480578794879575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114480578794879575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/03/her-bluff-messages.html' title='her bluff messages'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114068309442007870</id><published>2006-02-23T16:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T17:28:00.576+08:00</updated><title type='text'>broken trust</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;Some revelations are true. Fragments of which I had done. Part by part being uttered. Assuming before that secrets can be masked and buried… that promises made can be kept. Fearing beforehand that it would happen yet setting aside such thought. As I have faith in the pact created. Yet I was the only one who kept the words safe. Now the trust was indeed shattered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114068309442007870?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114068309442007870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114068309442007870&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114068309442007870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114068309442007870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/02/broken-trust.html' title='broken trust'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114068200447902464</id><published>2006-02-22T15:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T17:25:14.830+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I discern</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;Who's a real friend and who's just pretending to be? I easily trust yet now I learned. There are people who would be nice, but have a discrete motive beneath the friendliness. Simply waiting for the time to wreck and pull me down. I could feel that a knife is slowly stabbing me at my back trying to make me weak. With eyes closed, I asked myself why it happen? I discern… it was because of envy and resentment. Yet, I remain strong even if I did not fight back. I have nothing to lose. I am still whole... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;And this is what I want to say to Lora--- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;I guess you should give credit to yourself for what you had ruined, for the crazy and bitchy words you used for her, for hating Vincent and a lot more! You had been so nice to me. I never realize you have a different motive. Thank you for telling her your version of the twisted truth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114068200447902464?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114068200447902464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114068200447902464&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114068200447902464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114068200447902464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-discern.html' title='I discern'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114057402757772239</id><published>2006-02-17T10:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T17:21:15.643+08:00</updated><title type='text'>here she goes again</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;just posting Michelle's messages here... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;+ If I could bring back the past I should have not acted the way I did before. I should have not thrown words against you. I was hurt and I admit that I felt insecure at that moment...&lt;br /&gt;+ I was blinded by anger because I felt betrayed. I lost my trust on him for no reason. I keep on bringing about his past relationships... I was teh one who hurt myself and I feel ashamed for what I did.&lt;br /&gt;+ Czaroma, thank you for making me realize how lucky I am. I shared to you how I feel coz I know you would understand.&lt;br /&gt;+ I'm glad I got to know you and now I know why my husband loved you before. You're a a true person... it's just sad that we have to be in that situation before. The only regret I had is that I lost a friend... I'm sorry&lt;br /&gt;+ Hope you will forgive me for everything I had done to you. Sorry I got you involved with my personal life... can we still be friends?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;There's no sense replying to her messages anymore. I had done that before and befriended her. But then, so I choose not to give much attention to her. I don't want be complicated by the things in the past. All is over for me. There's no sense bringing it up again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114057402757772239?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114057402757772239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114057402757772239&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114057402757772239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114057402757772239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/02/here-she-goes-again.html' title='here she goes again'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22765795.post-114206337007542023</id><published>2006-02-12T15:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T17:20:50.803+08:00</updated><title type='text'>reflections of a mother</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;... got this from an email... Reflections of a Mother &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I gave you life, but cannot live it for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can teach you things, but I cannot make you learn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can give you directions, but I cannot be there to lead you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can allow you freedom, but I cannot account for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can take you to church, but I cannot make you believe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can teach you right from wrong, but I cannot always decide for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can buy you beautiful clothes, but I cannot make you beautiful inside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can offer you advice, but I cannot accept it for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can give you love, but I cannot force it upon you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can teach you to share, but I cannot make you unselfish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can teach you respect, but I cannot force you to show honor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can advise you about friends, but cannot choose them for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can advise you about sex, but I cannot keep you pure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can tell you the facts of life, but I can't build your reputation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can tell you about drink, but I can't say "no" for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can warn you about drugs, but I can't prevent you from using them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can tell you about lofty goals, but I can't achieve them for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can teach you about kindness, but I can't force you to be gracious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can warn you about sins, but I cannot make you moral.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can love you as a child, but I cannot place you in God's family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can pray for you, but I cannot make you walk with God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can teach you about Jesus, but I cannot make Jesus your Lord.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can tell you how to live, but I cannot give you eternal life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can love you with unconditional&lt;/span&gt; love all of my life...and I will!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22765795-114206337007542023?l=stillechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114206337007542023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22765795&amp;postID=114206337007542023&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114206337007542023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22765795/posts/default/114206337007542023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillechoes.blogspot.com/2006/02/reflections-of-mother.html' title='reflections of a mother'/><author><name>czaroma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFz3dChYONE/Sma-3iGGyVI/AAAAAAAAAo4/xa3seKO6wGc/S220/profile2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
