Can't fight off this feeling anymore. It's really into me now. I have to let go of this but I don't want to. It scares me but it makes my life happy. Scared to get hurt and feel the excruciating pain and yet it saved me from solitude and everything's like a spree. It's very astonishing love is knowing that you had a life, once been locked in a room, brightened up with a single candlelight and then suddenly a rainbow struck into that room through the window. Now it's unlocked, it's already free and willing to take in some light to have more brightness. The acumen of love really drives you crazy in a natural way, no matter how you try to ignore it, it always gets in your way. Love is on the air which I have to breathe in. And I never had a feeling of bafflement or any second thought or something like that. I am even more blissful as I let love burn my life. After 18 years, love is on fashion which is "pret-a-porter". It's very inevitable and ineffable whenever your asked why. I just grin at them and it already explains all of it.

I could remember I told myself once and I even wrote it on my blog,"It's better to stalk someone 'till he gives in". Well, I didn't do that and I never did. He just came out of nowhere and struck me with his arrow. I even also wrote a line," There is really no love story for me. Only fantasies from my dreams". Well, now I guess my fantasies from my train of thoughts or images that passed through my mind in my sleep or even in my reverie came true. The feeling is like a deja vu, you happen to have it for the first time and yet, you seemed like you had it before. Almost everyone browsed my renowned collection of list of men and asked me the very same question,"Why him? So many of them, why him? What is there in him?". I grin at them again and say,"Everything. He's wonderful!". He is not that much. He doesn't live in a lavish lifestyle, either. He is just simply KENT, who fills in the missing part of me.

Ai ambot, can't think of wat to write na jud. kapoi nman gud.
kapoi na eningles so ga bisaya nlang ko. anyway wla man pud dagwai byad if mag-bisaya ra ko. pinoy gud ko nga bisdak, nan!, bleh!!!!
I'm sad diay kron ky ga problema ko sa akong Pol. Sci. 2.10 ako grade, huhuh, maka guol jud. and I was wondering why mao rani nga grade ang gihatag sa ako teacher nga sa akong pgka-yawit.witan? and naboang gani ko og karoit sa iya subject memorize ra anang mga section2x dra oi..mkasapot jud..hmmmmp, wat shud I do????????
matabang pa kya ni? help plzzzzzzzzzzz!!!!!!!!!!!

Wish I could tell you everything.

Wish I have the courage to share to you all that's inside me, my thoughts in my head and my feelings buried deeply in my heart. How I envy you both, listening to your real fairy tales in life, sharing your deepest secrets, your almost unbearable pains and your most never ending romantic love stories. Yes, we do laugh and cry together. We do always have a friendly talk, exchanging words to each other and we have extreme laughter and heartaches that's almost impossible to endure. But those are only all about the accounts of some happenings in your exulting life. And I really feel envious, wishing you too will laugh and cry on my stories. How extremely sad it is for me. I tried to tell you but you didn't show interest. You only give me a smile and some complimentary words and it's all bullshit to me. I don't need those. I also wanted to see your big mouths open wide or bleed with tears when I'm happy or hurt. You do that because you never think or maybe even refuse to believe that I can also meet the very same combination of circumstances or cases you have. And why is that? That's because you never let me grow up in your eyes. And what hurts me most is that you only know the outer part of me. You never really know the real me because what you see in me is a girl in her red shoes, wearing a pink dress.

It was fifteen years later when I came back home after I got pregnant and my father drove me away. He was so angry for I could never tell who the father is.

I walked through the dark forest to have a shortcut towards my house. There were creepy movements on the bushes and chirping sounds of the crickets. And the wind was howling and I realized that a storm was coming. I walked faster and faster carrying my two luggage. Suddenly, the lightning strikes, the growling thunder claps, and then the rain started to pour down on me. I began to ran as fast as I could and then I saw a smoke coming from the chimney and I thought my house couldn't be far enough. I could already hear distinct voices from the distance and soon I saw them driving the horses to the stables and my old lady shouted at them to hurry and come inside the house. At first I was hesitant to knock on the door as I saw my old pal through the window puffing his pipe and drinking his whiskey with two other men. I could still remember how he beat me up like a wild boar and stoned me away from them while my mother was crying, watching at me helplessly, trying to stop him, but there was nothing she could do.

I was soaking wet when I knocked on the door twice and mother hurriedly opened the door. She stood there about half a minute, not knowing what to say. She was stunned and surprised and she almost burst into tears. I had my arms wide open and embraced her tightly. She took me into the kitchen and told my father that his daughter was home, her Emily was home. He turned around to look at me and his arrogant face and proud heart were there no longer. There were only tears and then, I was home again.

I was back on riding horses with my father, Joe and Ray. And during dinner I told them my stories, my life in the city and how my little girl had grown. I told them I will bring her here soon after school.

One morning, my father had an early visitors and the lady asked him who I was and my papa called me from the kitchen. He introduced me to John, to his wife Maria, and to his friend Gayle. We shook hands but except John who hardly looked at me. Papa said they were his often visitors because they owe him a lot of money. My eyes were still kept on John, his features were so familiar to me and I thought I saw him from somewhere a long time ago. After that, I couldn't stop thinking and wondering who he was. I was so curios about him.

Weeks later, only John this time often came to our house and brought more whiskey and flowers for me. There was something about this man. His voice was fairly familiar and then I remembered. I was trembling and could hardly breathe. I ran away from the house, went to the woods, crying, "I remember him. I knew that man, though it was only once that I saw him. Of course how could I forget that man...".

It was already dark when I started to walk back to the house when I saw a man lying on the ground. It was John, and he was very drunk. I put his arm around my neck and helped him walked towards the house and I realized how drunk my child's father was.