<?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-14889420</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:47:36.879-07:00</updated><title type='text'>amidst all else</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>che</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02280596525057246149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14889420.post-116729778784144137</id><published>2006-12-28T01:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-28T01:23:07.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=""&gt;i just had to write this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;i just remembered bos pol. and i cried. it never really occurred to me that he’ll be out of the picture, or that he’ll never get back to work in the same capacity as before. there’s just so much wisdom in him, and he’s still young so it never really sank in me that he might not be with us anymore. well, not in the same capacity, but nevertheless, there’ll be less of himself to give. it just saddens me coz he still wants to give more, he is still at his prime so its a bit unimaginable that he won’t be around for meetings, or even short chit-chats, dreaming of stuff that nobody would even dare bring up. i really can’t imagine yet how it would be. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;i remembered in cebu, when it was our turn to discuss our assessment, and dit mentioned that bos pol might not really come back, i felt as if something dropped inside me. like my stomach weighed more than it can carry. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;i dunno. i guess i’m being stupidly sentimental over somebody i’ve always considered a brother. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14889420-116729778784144137?l=burikaysown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/feeds/116729778784144137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14889420&amp;postID=116729778784144137&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/116729778784144137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/116729778784144137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-just-had-to-write-this.html' title=''/><author><name>che</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02280596525057246149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14889420.post-116698071773237836</id><published>2006-12-24T09:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-24T09:18:37.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=""&gt;christmas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;i should be sleeping. still have that family thing tomorrow. same old. same old.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;beso here. beso there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;‘ano ka ba naman, lalo kang tumataba!’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;kailan ba naman ho ako pumayat?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;‘kelan ka mag-aasawa?’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;bukas na lang ho, pasko kasi ngayon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;‘bakit parang lumiit ka..?’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;uuuy! salamat! ngayon lang yan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;‘di mo pa ba bibigyan ng apo mga mommy mo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;pwede naman. apo na lang wag na asawa ha?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;‘ang tanda mo na!’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;nagsalita!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;‘kailan ka pa bumalik?’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;ahh..3 years ago pa po.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;predictable mindless chit-chat. from family members that i seldom see. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;same old. same old.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14889420-116698071773237836?l=burikaysown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/feeds/116698071773237836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14889420&amp;postID=116698071773237836&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/116698071773237836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/116698071773237836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/2006/12/christmas.html' title=''/><author><name>che</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02280596525057246149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14889420.post-116697987616289380</id><published>2006-12-24T09:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-24T09:04:36.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=""&gt;foolish games (jewel)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;you took your coat off and stood in the rain / you were always crazy like that / i watched from my window / always felt i was outside looking in on you / you were always the mysterious one / with dark eyes and careless hair / you were fashionable sensitive but too cool to care / then you stood in my doorway with nothing to say / besides some comment on the weather / well in case you failed to notice / in case you failed to see / this is my heart bleeding before you / this is me down on my knees / these foolish games are tearing me apart / your thoughtless words breaking my heart / you’re breaking my heart / you were always brilliant in the morning / smoking your cigarettes / talking over coffee / your philosophies on art, Baroque moved you / you loved Mozart and you’d speak of your loved ones / as i clumsily strummed my guitar / you’d teach me of honest things / things that were daring things that were clean / things that knew what an honest dollar did mean / so i hid my soiled hands behind my back / somewhere along the line i must’ve gone off track with you / excuse me think i’ve mistaken you for somebody else / somebody who gave a damn / somebody more like myself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;you took your coat off / and stood in the rain / you were always crazy like that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14889420-116697987616289380?l=burikaysown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/feeds/116697987616289380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14889420&amp;postID=116697987616289380&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/116697987616289380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/116697987616289380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/2006/12/foolish-games-jewel-you-took-your-coat.html' title=''/><author><name>che</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02280596525057246149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14889420.post-116694900103843351</id><published>2006-12-24T00:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-24T00:30:02.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=""&gt;i can not allow myself to drift this way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;i must not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;i shouldn’t.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;yet i keep going back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;lost.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;try&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;so hard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;images&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;and possibilities pass by me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;what if...?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;just in case...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;maybe this time...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;i’m scared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14889420-116694900103843351?l=burikaysown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/feeds/116694900103843351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14889420&amp;postID=116694900103843351&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/116694900103843351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/116694900103843351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-can-not-allow-myself-to-drift-this.html' title=''/><author><name>che</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02280596525057246149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14889420.post-114942542763638688</id><published>2006-06-04T05:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-04T05:50:27.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>distracted</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=""&gt;one of the worst habits that i have is tinkering so much about everything around me, and still i end up not focusing on just a single task that i need to accomplish. take for example in the office: it would almost be noon and so far, all i have accomplished would have been chatting with a colleague on her recent trip. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;i easily get distracted. much as i want to focus and concentrate on a task at hand, when my mind begins to wander, everything else falls apart. instead of making headway on a particular job that i need to get done, i return to square one because, well, i simply get distracted. this has been my problem for the longest time already. i always attribute it to writer’s block, where in i simply cannot conjure all the bright and creative things that my mind sometimes spews spontaneously. nowadays, these bright ideas make a comeback but very briefly, and my tendency is to voice everything out and when i do get to write it down, i get frustrated because the intensity that i had in talking about it is just not the same when i see it on paper. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;i probably need a recorder, so that i can just play it back when i do write those ideas down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;nevertheless, i need to really work on this focus and concentration thing. and be keen on finishing at least 2 tasks for this week. otherwise, its gonna be really frustrating, especially when we have tons of things that we have to get done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;now where do i start....???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14889420-114942542763638688?l=burikaysown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/feeds/114942542763638688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14889420&amp;postID=114942542763638688&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/114942542763638688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/114942542763638688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/2006/06/distracted.html' title='distracted'/><author><name>che</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02280596525057246149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14889420.post-114942480358919208</id><published>2006-06-04T05:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-04T05:40:03.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2380/1362/1600/DSC00023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2380/1362/320/DSC00023.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14889420-114942480358919208?l=burikaysown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/feeds/114942480358919208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14889420&amp;postID=114942480358919208&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/114942480358919208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/114942480358919208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/2006/06/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>che</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02280596525057246149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14889420.post-114544002698621903</id><published>2006-04-19T02:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T02:47:07.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>irritation</title><content type='html'>sometimes it's just impossible to stay amiable and pleasant to people when all you feel is irritation and annoyance. even if that person is related to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how difficult is it to ask someone for instructions? how difficult is it to understand and learn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how difficult is it to just do something you are capable of doing and not bother someone else to do it for you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how difficult will it be to be logical, practical and have common sense?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;damn, i hate thinking like this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate having to act all patient and nice when i just want to shout out and say "can't you do it yourself?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what makes it all worse is that you end up being the bad guy just because you stood up and said your piece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that you just got fed up and finally said enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that you also have stuff to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;still, i hate thinking and feeling this way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14889420-114544002698621903?l=burikaysown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/feeds/114544002698621903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14889420&amp;postID=114544002698621903&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/114544002698621903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/114544002698621903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/2006/04/irritation.html' title='irritation'/><author><name>che</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02280596525057246149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14889420.post-114482061874076282</id><published>2006-04-11T22:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T22:43:38.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'>miyerkules santo: half-day daw</title><content type='html'>half-day daw ngayon, kasi miyerkules santo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dito sa opisina, kapag sinabi mong half-day, ang ibig sabihin nun ay alas-singko ng hapon ang uwi. kasi ang pangkaraniwang uwi naman namin dito ay alas-7, alas-8, masuwerte na kung alas-6 at masisilayan mo pa ng kaunti ang araw. pero kapag may mga kailangang tapusin at lahat ay nangangarag na, pinaka-maaga na ang alas-9 o alas-10. yun ay kung hindi kinakailangang matulog sa opisina. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaya kahit holiday pa sa karamihan ng mga opisina, at idineklara ng Malakanyang na walang pasok, kami minsan ay nagpapaka-dakila pa din sa pagpasok sa trabaho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kunsabagay, sa trabaho naman namin ay walang itinalagang oras. hindi tulad ng striktong 9-5 na trabaho. sa isang banda ay ok naman yun, para sa akin, kasi hindi talaga ako mapakali kapag nakatali sa oras. pero, oo, minsan naman ay isang malaking dagok kapag hindi ako nakakatupad sa itina-takdang oras. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sa kabilang banda naman, maganda din ang may oras na batayan. kumbaga, kung 9-5 ka lang, dapat ay 9-5 ka lang talaga. yan lang ang buhay mo para sa trabaho. pagkatapos ng alas-5, ibang bahagi ng buhay mo naman ang asikasuhin mo. tipong wala ka dapat bagahe ng trabaho kapag ikaw ay nasa ibang aspeto na ng buhay mo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero ito naman talaga ang pinili ko. ang walang oras, walang pagkakatali sa mga itinatakda kong gagawin. pero suwail pa din ako. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hindi totoong half-day ngayon. kitam. ala-una na nga ng hapon, bakit nandito pa din ako? &lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14889420-114482061874076282?l=burikaysown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/feeds/114482061874076282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14889420&amp;postID=114482061874076282&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/114482061874076282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/114482061874076282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/2006/04/miyerkules-santo-half-day-daw.html' title='miyerkules santo: half-day daw'/><author><name>che</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02280596525057246149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14889420.post-114471327495182951</id><published>2006-04-10T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T16:54:35.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'>lunes santo: lampungan sa bus</title><content type='html'>lunes santo. simula ng isang linggong paggunita sa pagpapakasakit ni kristo. mahal na araw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kadalasan, naa-associate ko ang isang linggo na ito sa init, pawis, pagsisimba, prusisyon, at pagsilip sa mga crush namin dati na lingkod ng dambana. hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sa ngayon, ganun pa din halos ang pag-associate ko sa mahal na araw. simba, prusisyon, init, pawis, at pagkikita muli ng mga dating nagiging kasama sa simbahan, nung panahong aktibo pa ako sa mga gawaing simbahan. kaso hindi na ako aktibo sa simbahan eh. hanggang simba na lang talaga, kahit pa minsan eh iniisip ko pa din na bumalik. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero hindi yun ang balak ko isulat eh, pasakalye lang yan. simula na nga kasi ng mahal na araw kaya naisip ko yun. ang isusulat ko talaga ay tungkol sa pagbiyahe ko kaninang umaga. sa katunayan, marami akong pwedeng maikwento sa araw-araw na ibina-byahe ko. kung tutuusin, ganito din naman ang ginagawa ko noong nagsimula akong magtrabaho. idinadaan ko sa mga kwento at pagsulat ang lahat ng mga nararanasan ko sa daan. at naisip ko na din naman na hindi na orihinal ang magsulat ng ganitong mga karanasan. lahat naman kasi tayo bumibyahe, maging pagko-commute pa yan o may sariling sasakyan. pero siyempre, ang pananaw ng bawat isa ay iba, at ang pagku-kwento ay hindi pare-parehas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kanina kasi, sa pagsakay ko ng bus mula monumento, nakatabi ko ang isang mag-syota, dun sa tatluhan na upuan. hindi naman na bago ang mayrong naglalampungan na mag-jowa kahit pa isang pampublikong sasakyan ang kanilang sinasakyan. hindi rin naman ako ganoon ka-konserbatibo para maasiwa sa nakikita kong magkayakap sa publiko. dinaanan ko din naman ang PDA, kahit papaano. pero alam ko naman kung nasa lugar pa o hindi ang ginagawa naming pagka-karinyo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i-describe ko ang itsura ng mag-jowa. yung babae ang nasa tabi ng bintana, nakataas ang dalawang paa sa may gilid, parang nakadantay against sa likod ng upuan na nasa unahan nito. habang yakap-yakap siya ng kanyang boyfriend. isipin mo na lang na ang posisyon nila eh, kung wala sila sa bus, dapat ay nasa park sila, o kaya ay isang maluwag na sofa. at siyempre, dahil tatluhan ang upuan, at yun ang pinaka-malapit na bakanteng lugar, dun na lang ako umupo. nag-adjust naman sila, pero kaunti lang. kinailangan kong i-adjust ng husto ang aking pwesto at pwet para magkasya ako at hindi malaglag sa upuan, lalo na at 2 ang bag na dala ko at parehong may kabigatan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;iniisip ko na kanina na lumipat pero napag-isipan ko na teka nga, sapat din naman ang ibinayad ko ah. sumagi din sa isip ko na sabihan ang mag-jowa na umayos naman. kaso, hindi pa buo ang aking pagka-maldita kanina at inintindi ko na lang na ito ang kanilang pagkakataon para makapaglampungan kasi siguro sila ay lihim na magsing-irog, o di kaya ay illegal ang kanilang pagsasama. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sa kahulihan naman, napag-isipan din siguro nila na kailangan nilang mag-ayos ng upo. umayos naman sila, kaya naka-ayos na din ako ng upo. pero hindi pa din matanggal-tanggal ang pagkakayapos at pagka-buhol ng kanilang mga kamay sa isa’t-isa. literally their hands were all over each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ang sumasagi sa utak ko - hindi ba sila naiinitan sa kanilang ginagawa? hindi naman ganun kalamigan ang bus, napaka-init pa lalo sa labas. ewan ba. tumatanda na nga ata ako. o di kaya ay kinakailangan ko na ngang magkaroon ulit ng jowa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero hindi ko ata magagawang makipaglampungan sa bus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14889420-114471327495182951?l=burikaysown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/feeds/114471327495182951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14889420&amp;postID=114471327495182951&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/114471327495182951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/114471327495182951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/2006/04/lunes-santo-lampungan-sa-bus.html' title='lunes santo: lampungan sa bus'/><author><name>che</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02280596525057246149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14889420.post-113921960199452751</id><published>2006-02-06T01:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T01:53:21.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>saturated and drained</title><content type='html'>there's a certain time of the day when my head begins to throb and refuses to function at all. it becomes devoid of all thoughts and genius, and automatically wants to shut out everything else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's happening more frequently lately. and it's not such a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've got tons of things to do and finish before me. i've got paperwork that's been due since last week. and i still have other paperworks to finish on top of that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really hate deadlines. it never works for me. and i never really work for it anyway. it's just mutual. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but my head is really throbbing. i guess that's what happens when you force too much into it, but processing doesn't really take form. instead of brighter and creative ideas pouring out, its nada. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;agony. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and it's only monday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14889420-113921960199452751?l=burikaysown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/feeds/113921960199452751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14889420&amp;postID=113921960199452751&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/113921960199452751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/113921960199452751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/2006/02/saturated-and-drained.html' title='saturated and drained'/><author><name>che</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02280596525057246149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14889420.post-112254183254851397</id><published>2005-07-28T02:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T02:10:32.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>petty + petty = stupid</title><content type='html'>what do you get when you add petty and petty?&lt;br /&gt;stupidity, that's what.&lt;br /&gt;it's just darn tiring to hear people argue about petty stuff.&lt;br /&gt;stuff that actually doesn't matter whether you mind it or not.&lt;br /&gt;stuff that could make you cringe and whine, because it's just too damn petty!&lt;br /&gt;heck, i could fill this whole entry with curses and exasperated sighs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i should change my title.&lt;br /&gt;petty + petty = stupid&lt;br /&gt;petty + petty + stupid = shit&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14889420-112254183254851397?l=burikaysown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/feeds/112254183254851397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14889420&amp;postID=112254183254851397&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/112254183254851397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/112254183254851397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/2005/07/petty-petty-stupid.html' title='petty + petty = stupid'/><author><name>che</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02280596525057246149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14889420.post-112253826333645897</id><published>2005-07-28T00:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T01:11:03.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>introductory thoughts ... or something like that</title><content type='html'>i guess i never really understood how this blogging thing works. i started one before, in one of those other on-line chatting stuff. i even had to look up what blog meant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i realize that it's basically the same thing as journal writing. where you bare your soul out in the pages of a notebook, tuck it away, hidden in a place where hopefully nobody will find. otherwise the sanctity of your thoughts, dreams, wishes and desires will be lost once some bloody soul peeks into it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is there any sanctity in baring your soul out on the net?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14889420-112253826333645897?l=burikaysown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/feeds/112253826333645897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14889420&amp;postID=112253826333645897&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/112253826333645897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14889420/posts/default/112253826333645897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://burikaysown.blogspot.com/2005/07/introductory-thoughts-or-something.html' title='introductory thoughts ... or something like that'/><author><name>che</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02280596525057246149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
