tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72236158717056414352024-02-19T06:57:20.672-08:00shake your steamed cherriesSakura, Sakura, Flowers in Full Bloomscarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-86133167912104723452011-04-11T11:36:00.000-07:002011-04-11T11:40:39.280-07:00Murder, She WroteThink before you kill your dreams with doubts. <br /><br />There is little more tragic than seeing dreams die before they are even given the chance to materialize. Don't be the murderer of dreams, your own or other people's.<br /><br />Remember, it always starts with a simple spark of faith. Believe! <br /><br />xxscarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-70111594875032375182011-02-28T06:45:00.000-08:002011-02-28T08:21:37.705-08:00Date a Girl Who ReadsDate A Girl Who Reads by Rosemarie Urquico<br /><br />(In Response to Charles Warnke’s You Should Date An Illiterate Girl.)<br /><br />Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.<br /><br />Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.<br /><br />She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.<br /><br />Buy her another cup of coffee.<br /><br />Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.<br /><br />It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.<br /><br />She has to give it a shot somehow.<br /><br />Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.<br /><br />Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.<br /><br />Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.<br /><br />If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.<br /><br />You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.<br /><br />You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.<br /><br />Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.<br /><br />Or better yet, date a girl who writes.scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-29733701583102711142011-02-25T05:36:00.000-08:002011-02-25T05:54:53.675-08:00This is GoodbyeI think I have decided to go back to my old ways.<br /><br />Everything was perfect then. Everything was pretend.<br /><br />From now on, you will no longer see me. From now on the only thing that you will see when you look at me is what ever you want to see or nothing at all.<br /><br />I'm partly sorry but we only do what we must. We only do what we need to do in order to survive. I cannot survive you, therefore I must let you go. I will let you go like how one severes a rotting limb. The pain will be unimaginable I suppose but the important thing is that I will live. The me who dreams in technicolored frenzy will survive and move on.<br /><br />I will leave you slowly, like snow melting under the sunlight. And you will never know. All you will have left is a puddle of faded memories and a false reflection.<br /><br />I love you. Be well. And my goodbye begins.<br /><br />xoxoscarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-85685949394759405242011-02-15T07:52:00.000-08:002011-02-15T07:55:54.431-08:00.Sometimes <br />I wonder<br />What would it be<br />Like<br />When I'm gone<br />Loved ones<br />Would grieve for a time<br />I suppose<br />The wheel would make<br />A polite pause<br />And <br />Then continue spinning <br />Again<br /><br />Then I shall be<br />Nothing <br />But<br />A dream<br />A<br />Grain of sand<br />Lost forever at<br />Sea.scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-1217171126924893152011-02-15T07:39:00.001-08:002011-02-15T07:50:12.967-08:00Hello, helloHello stranger, <br />It's been a while. I ran across your thoughts today and it reminded me why I had started this to begin with. We're virtual strangers, you see. But in you I see fragments of me; broken sharp shards like your words. Sharp and poignant but never meaning to hurt or bruise.<br /><br />Hello, I just wanted to say I miss you. Of course that's not silly! I come to your space in hopes of finding the pieces of me I have seem to lost; that a peak inside your world will remind me of how mine looks and feels... You always said you didn't care but i think you did. You did because you wouldn't have said anything otherwise. Then again I migut be wrong... If you cared you'd still be here.<br /><br />I miss you, you know. I hope you found whatever it was you were looking for. I hope this makes its way to you. I hope you are happy.<br /><br />Xoxoscarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-13699765110253247852010-10-13T23:53:00.000-07:002010-10-13T23:56:49.587-07:00After A While<div style="font-family: arial;" class="mbl notesBlogText clearfix"><div><p><span style="font-size:85%;">After A While</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">Veronica A. Shoffstall</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">After a while you learn</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">the subtle difference between</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">holding a hand and chaining a soul</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">and you learn</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">that love doesn’t mean leaning</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">and company doesn’t always mean security.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">And you begin to learn</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">that kisses aren’t contracts</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">and presents aren’t promises</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">and you begin to accept your defeats</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">with your head up and your eyes ahead</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">with the grace of woman,</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">not the grief of a child</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">and you learn</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">to build all your roads on today</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">because tomorrow's ground is</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">too uncertain for plans</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">and futures have a way of falling down</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">in mid-flight.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">After a while you learn</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">that even sunshine burns</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">if you get too much</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">so you plant your own garden</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">and decorate your own soul</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">instead of waiting for someone</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">to bring you flowers.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">And you learn that you really can endure</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">you really are strong</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">you really do have worth</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">and you learn</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">and you learn</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">with every goodbye, you learn…</span></p></div></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-1840292907501470672010-08-23T00:42:00.001-07:002010-08-23T00:54:38.072-07:00through the looking glass<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXJhxeeNGt4ayURz9exuUh_AuGSOF3moQjoyOqKeLM18Vq91VXQZvCr6fjZfojQJJd7IGLaW-wtObUOzroxL8ZSU1ltRF6sSXJsm8L8DL4mDNzhG7DUOUu6MIlJCtziKy9sYs1LE2XGpoN/s1600/em_rejano1117-eds+%2811%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXJhxeeNGt4ayURz9exuUh_AuGSOF3moQjoyOqKeLM18Vq91VXQZvCr6fjZfojQJJd7IGLaW-wtObUOzroxL8ZSU1ltRF6sSXJsm8L8DL4mDNzhG7DUOUu6MIlJCtziKy9sYs1LE2XGpoN/s400/em_rejano1117-eds+%2811%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508507818866226402" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">She<br />looks at you<br />with eyes that dare<br />provoke<br />question<br /><br />She<br />dares you to look<br />past beyond what you see<br />provoke your inner senses<br />question your reality<br /><br />Is she really<br />what<br />you think you see?<br />What do you<br />see?<br /><br /></div><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-27310015585186149852010-08-15T11:14:00.001-07:002010-08-15T11:30:58.442-07:00history 101They were seatmates in history of art.<br /><br />It was the first time she saw him.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Probably a senior</span>, she thought.<br /><br />The only conversation they ever had was when he came late and asked if he missed anything important.<br /><br />she wanted to say: me!<br /><br />One of the things she observed about him though was his unhealthy obsession with his headphones (Dr.Dre, total music junkie, she concluded).<br /><br />He was never without it, like its an extension of his body.<br /><br />When the professor wasn't talking, it was always glued to his ears.<br /><br />So out of boredom, she developed an unhealthy habit of talking to herself. Out loud. In front of him.<br /><br />Well technically, beside him, but lets not get picky here.<br /><br />Besides, its not as if he hears.<br /><br />So one time, she was saying something about him being too ...<br /><br />Did his face just twitch?<br /><br />She just dismissed it as maybe his ear phones had a glitch. (<span style="font-style: italic;">serves him right!</span> she thought.)<br /><br />But before she left at the end of the class,<br /><br />he called her name.<br /><br />Maybe she should stop living off energy drinks to stay awake. It didn't say it included hallucinations as a side effect...<br /><br />"Hey, for the record, I'm not gay. And I actually do like rock music too. There's a cool band playing on the fifth and I've got two tickets.<br /><br />Her face remained puzzled<br /><br />"Huh?" was all she managed to say.<br /><br />Great, how intelligible.<br /><br />Yes this is me asking you out. Is that you saying yes?<br /><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-27841264572009945882010-08-15T01:39:00.000-07:002010-08-15T02:15:20.823-07:00Sunday Afternoon Nostalgia<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The weather reminded me of you today, and feelings I thought were long forgotten. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Sunday afternoons were one of my favorites then. Only because Sunday meant tomorrow is Monday (and as much as I cringe at the memory), Monday was my favorite day. Monday meant the start of the 5 days I get to see you after the day is through. Week by week, you made me fall in love, in tears, in small smiles, in the giddy feeling a mere sight of you gives. I just could not get enough. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">But life continues and we move on. My fixation for you slowly diminished. Every once in a while I would still hear something about you, and I would always still smile of fondness. Your memories now remind me of how easy it is to fall in love with an idea. For that was really all there was.</span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"> It was not really you that I fell in love with, but the idea of you that I have in my head. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">I guess I can always credit my folly to my youth and vanity. But I refuse to write you off as a mere illusion nor taint your memory with regret. The you that I fell in love with might only be born out of my ideals, but it doesn't make how I felt any less real.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">It is so deceivingly easy to mistake infatuation and severe fondness for love. But I guess if I can still remember the feelings I felt towards you then as sharply as I do now, maybe, just maybe, it might have been love after all...</span></span><br /><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-92083893965304888652010-04-13T20:21:00.000-07:002010-04-13T20:35:33.572-07:00ALOHA!<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">By next week, I would be flying to Osaka to stay with my family for a month. Lately, I've been busy with tying loose ends to ensure everything is well before I leave. Getting the pieces I need for spring, seeing all of my friends (a lot of whom I haven't seen in a while), and sadly, leaving my job permanently. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I believe we get in life what we have the courage to ask for. Sometimes though, we are required to make a decision to choose which we want more; occasionally, we come to a point in our lives where we question ourselves what we are willing to sacrifice in order to achieve our desires. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;">As I bid my company farewell, I welcome with open arms Osaka and the new adventure that awaits!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;">So farewell, HIP; Hello, Osaka!</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-53716035813229122522009-12-18T00:12:00.000-08:002009-12-18T00:27:40.177-08:00Just Do It :)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">clickety click: </span></span><a href="http://www.quizbox.com/personality/test82.aspx"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">who do you think you are?</span></span></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">My results:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Your view on yourself:<br />You are down-to-earth and people like you because you are so straightforward. You are an efficient problem solver because you will listen to both sides of an argument before making a decision that usually appeals to both parties.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />The type of girlfriend/boyfriend you are looking for:<br />You are a true romantic. When you are in love, you will do anything and everything to keep your love true.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Your readiness to commit to a relationship:<br />You are ready to commit as soon as you meet the right person. And you believe you will pretty much know as soon as you might that person.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />The seriousness of your love:<br />You like to flirt and behave seductively. The opposite sex finds this very attractive, and that's why you'll always have admirers hanging off your arms. But how serious are you about choosing someone to be in a relationship with?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />Your views on education<br />Education is very important in life. You want to study hard and learn as much as you can.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />The right job for you:<br />You're a practical person and will choose a secure job with a steady income. Knowing what you like to do is important. Find a regular job doing just that and you'll be set for life.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />How do you view success:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">You are afraid of failure and scared to have a go at the career you would like to have in case you don't succeed. Don't give up when you haven't yet even started! Be courageous.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />What are you most afraid of:<br />You are afraid of having no one to rely on in times of trouble. You don't ever want to be unable to take care of yourself. Independence is important to you.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />Who is your true self:<br />You are full of energy and confidence. You are unpredictable, with moods changing as quickly as an ocean. You might occasionally be calm and still, but never for long.</span></span></div><div><br /></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-9729049330228158192009-12-14T03:46:00.000-08:002009-12-14T03:57:40.335-08:00hushhh!<div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij-WuIzLOONiYCvQ4QCBVHOkJGL0kOJM_MnsMBDDB_-5BbFcZJ7uTE5_ZDMPDBsRrUckipR85Y1LuyUXgaXm2p4hsTQUYxkQdM82X0QZNizbYvOzMV20lcdPeswPmOwkoumPyXGZC5Yc3Z/s1600-h/DSC_0744.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij-WuIzLOONiYCvQ4QCBVHOkJGL0kOJM_MnsMBDDB_-5BbFcZJ7uTE5_ZDMPDBsRrUckipR85Y1LuyUXgaXm2p4hsTQUYxkQdM82X0QZNizbYvOzMV20lcdPeswPmOwkoumPyXGZC5Yc3Z/s400/DSC_0744.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415057836256756242" border="0" /></a><br />i wish i was blind sometimes<br />or deaf<br />then maybe it would spare me<br />from the sights i would rather not see<br />or words i would rather not hear<br />i value i have the gift of senses<br />but sometimes, just sometimes,<br />the promise of blissful ignorance<br />is oh so tempting<br /><br />have you ever accidentally stumbled upon something<br />which you wish you didn't?<br />only, its too late too turn back<br />your curiosity is already one step ahead of you<br />and before you even realize,<br />Pandora's box has already been opened.<br /><br />"curiosity killed the cat, but the cat has nine lives"<br /><br /></div><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-58917952465156615762009-12-01T21:11:00.000-08:002009-12-01T21:21:37.239-08:00on repeat: vanilla twilightS<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">o my friend Jak recommended Owl City to me way back </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">but it took time before he grew on me. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So now after browsing Owl City's discography,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">here's what caught my ears:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;">off the same album as Fireflies, Ocean Eyes:</span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Vanilla Twilight</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The stars lean down to kiss you,<br />And I lie awake I miss you,<br />Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere.<br />Cause I'll doze off safe and soundly,<br />But I'll miss your arms around me<br />I'll send a postcard to you dear, <br />Cause I wish you were here.<br /><br />I watch the night turn light blue, <br />But it's not the same without you, <br />Because it takes two to whisper quietly, <br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The silence isn't so bad, <br />Till I look at my hands and feel sad, <br />Cause the spaces between my fingers<br />Are right where yours fit perfectly.</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">(these are the lyrics which caught my ears</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">and made me look at the title of the song from iTunes</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">cheesy ain't it?)<br /></span><br />I'll find opposing new ways, <br />Though I haven't slept in two days, <br />Cause cold nostalgia chills me to the bone.<br />But drenched in Vanilla twilight, <br />I'll sit on the front porch all night, <br />Waist deep in thought because when I think of you.<br />I don't feel so alone.<br />I don't feel so alone.<br />I don't feel so alone.<br /><br />As many times as I blink I'll think of you... tonight.<br />I'll think of you tonight.<br /><br />When violet eyes get brighter,<br />And heavy wings grow lighter,<br />I'll taste the sky and feel alive again.<br />And I'll forget the world that I knew,<br />But I swear I won't forget you,<br />Oh if my voice could reach back through the past, <br />I'd whisper in your ear, <br />Oh darling I wish you were here.</span></span></span></div></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-2623295551057297452009-11-30T23:53:00.000-08:002009-12-01T00:14:23.739-08:00THE BABE BIRTHDAY BASH<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMbCKv4yRrAlxDtHgeQbOAyk4dHzlI2Y6YLNzUjj__Pd5_CzF58ZfkoWB6CsiKidgbIxxhlH5D_kB7Ca_xYYMTVbF9lbyH8XEUaxNGlM6JU9wzeEUlbyH4q2LkZRdPtw2DfIxLH7nq45K5/s400/6.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410175576760031346" /><i><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">birthday babes</span></span></div></i><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></i></span></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgpDLf9bSBeBB-pK0DlXWGK8X8E1S-YV_QL05i8wBeS1jimDRdRDtIz42Z_S7TOp0Va6pUp0XlH529msovdyjhD7_uygsvLUrMu7YfFSwmZaf4opN5SM_OViQVhJzHdbA5_LCr8RlZkOHb/s400/7.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 342px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410175578690572882" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic; font-family:arial;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">missing V</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO9XgyPCyMGjMhS9nczJuY5IZwo7TLxt4m-y9HhOv1XZJkqRYOF7XDKlwQyyZKalCbEyexeDoqgXVjE3zXhzpRaqOe3FE5nVoGDhKEup3yWSQ_H4CFoORo_j6k_t0n9iDvDAW2YtDy2za4/s1600/5.jpg"></a></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO9XgyPCyMGjMhS9nczJuY5IZwo7TLxt4m-y9HhOv1XZJkqRYOF7XDKlwQyyZKalCbEyexeDoqgXVjE3zXhzpRaqOe3FE5nVoGDhKEup3yWSQ_H4CFoORo_j6k_t0n9iDvDAW2YtDy2za4/s1600/5.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO9XgyPCyMGjMhS9nczJuY5IZwo7TLxt4m-y9HhOv1XZJkqRYOF7XDKlwQyyZKalCbEyexeDoqgXVjE3zXhzpRaqOe3FE5nVoGDhKEup3yWSQ_H4CFoORo_j6k_t0n9iDvDAW2YtDy2za4/s400/5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410173411273098946" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">the birthday babes eds, chowie and ikay with doll face kate and kaye</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHZxYyFjKrZP4hl24FViLHx7lTJjjPiNkor1qsJcvoVsb1jdLGw04ckRgSreIfDGAALJrFW6lQgcQUV6sus02COJqY_b7angQE3_0RHiFo_-wlqb59eyeVFJHOKOgwckan02oJtyv_poLL/s1600/4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHZxYyFjKrZP4hl24FViLHx7lTJjjPiNkor1qsJcvoVsb1jdLGw04ckRgSreIfDGAALJrFW6lQgcQUV6sus02COJqY_b7angQE3_0RHiFo_-wlqb59eyeVFJHOKOgwckan02oJtyv_poLL/s400/4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410173407915289346" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">with shobe jinice whom we miss dearly</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></i></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUSPR75mUgYwJiEx7cIOMqOJPuwn_OTe2kZTgkbKuCIszaTa24wqSXwLfueCtM_3edlrO2-GvIUfqGcg-uLQTjVAzgkCsOivUcZd21gYyRT4ERYdwr28NMMABOjQxChmwEaL8OTdyuTwMt/s1600/3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUSPR75mUgYwJiEx7cIOMqOJPuwn_OTe2kZTgkbKuCIszaTa24wqSXwLfueCtM_3edlrO2-GvIUfqGcg-uLQTjVAzgkCsOivUcZd21gYyRT4ERYdwr28NMMABOjQxChmwEaL8OTdyuTwMt/s400/3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410173402271116978" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">i love how my friends got together :) </span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB3ntygJI8YRYoAXPhCmivg0SQSqx4k7-nj02gRGHpq2zsM6A5cAMBmHtfdwzEvjCb_X4rsItvtYulDSOaQL7ugjnz3meaaVy1trCrLhIFBRuixzMwMZFWBFmnrhW1Dv15_iCA4BwLXgYc/s1600/2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB3ntygJI8YRYoAXPhCmivg0SQSqx4k7-nj02gRGHpq2zsM6A5cAMBmHtfdwzEvjCb_X4rsItvtYulDSOaQL7ugjnz3meaaVy1trCrLhIFBRuixzMwMZFWBFmnrhW1Dv15_iCA4BwLXgYc/s400/2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410173397866455698" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">red drum missing pirate, zero and spin</span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGgdgSJEPNa7laQHSe3whfTXKpW3Lig_kTO7C2RFYMV3dKOaIwzVvaSlHD5waLLXtzO2VYfn7ZsRivIXF72wX1W5BtsbL82KzMXGZTzgtYPbcFqLRd2dneYAckrwYUqPffSJSyDT0u6Fp0/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGgdgSJEPNa7laQHSe3whfTXKpW3Lig_kTO7C2RFYMV3dKOaIwzVvaSlHD5waLLXtzO2VYfn7ZsRivIXF72wX1W5BtsbL82KzMXGZTzgtYPbcFqLRd2dneYAckrwYUqPffSJSyDT0u6Fp0/s400/1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410173391068833042" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">missing bienie and manage</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i>that night we gorged on </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i>almond financiers, hazelnut truffle tarts, and</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i>red velvet and chai latte cupcakes</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i>white cheese and mozzarella pizza</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i>and got started on vodka and bacardi 151</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i>got welcomed by absinthe</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i>got high on patron tequila</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i>finished with grey goose </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">received some interesting presents</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">which deserve a post of their own ;)</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>thanks to the boys and bitches that came </i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>i had a sinfully good time ;)</i></span></span></div></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-13324074044006032952009-11-26T17:46:00.000-08:002009-11-26T19:15:06.086-08:00HAPPY!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8AiPOQImr_IDm2gC9S57BfDJ0g63X3vh3us8bJsz_VGdFlqBO_2VI3yQJaiJp8knilZLUnn4GwB0glJWQHj253wYFfSq8oLGRswhcTuNXcbhZyAmM8r5yuJgYzhV1JTkqkMyA4SWvwzTl/s1600/HAPPY+maiden+issue+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 251px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8AiPOQImr_IDm2gC9S57BfDJ0g63X3vh3us8bJsz_VGdFlqBO_2VI3yQJaiJp8knilZLUnn4GwB0glJWQHj253wYFfSq8oLGRswhcTuNXcbhZyAmM8r5yuJgYzhV1JTkqkMyA4SWvwzTl/s320/HAPPY+maiden+issue+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408600448288641106" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">HAPPY! maiden issue 2009</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Guess who's in it?</span></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMavwCNeUF0_b2uoS8AU21dSKJxufiA7_mrtNwH8DujKW0N3aOcQEEcZ8H7-qXU0cf7KN8NNeeos008YWGt2W_yL1xf_tRmS0yrNy3EkEnxMzpWrmj3biubtPTw-7yxjb8Ki2mPK1S0zNo/s1600/HAPPY+maiden+issue+5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 251px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMavwCNeUF0_b2uoS8AU21dSKJxufiA7_mrtNwH8DujKW0N3aOcQEEcZ8H7-qXU0cf7KN8NNeeos008YWGt2W_yL1xf_tRmS0yrNy3EkEnxMzpWrmj3biubtPTw-7yxjb8Ki2mPK1S0zNo/s320/HAPPY+maiden+issue+5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408594375379172114" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">click picture for a bigger image</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">the 411:</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:10px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:16px;"><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1. Full Name: Edellyn Villegas Amba</span></span></div></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">2. Nickname: Eds</span></span></div></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">3. Occupation: Artist</span></span></div></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">4. Age: 21</span></span></div></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">5. Did you always have this </span><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1259290180_0" style="cursor: pointer; background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: initial; border-bottom- background-position: initial initial; color:initial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">full figure</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">? </span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Yes, right off the bat when puberty hit, haha.</span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">6. What was your childhood like with this figure? </span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It felt like I was waiting for my normal body parts to arrive. I think everybody feels like that during puberty. Adapting to the physical changes is already a challenge but suddenly having enhanced curves in certain areas is,well, something else all together. When it came to choosing clothes, it helped that my mum was fashion conscious and provided me with tips but then, my mum was not full figured so her tips can only help as much. Reading teen magazines helped, too. It taught me other guidelines that I needed to know. But in the end, my mum's tips and magazines only gave me a general idea. It still boils down to using those tips as a base and giving them your own personal flavor to to develop one's personal style.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">7. What challenges did you go through given this body type - with friends, finding what to wear, boys... etc.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When I was younger, everybody basically followed the </span><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1259290180_1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">low rise jeans</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> + baby tee formula. Which, needless to say, did not fit my body type at all! That's what made me realize that I shouldn't just follow what everybody else is wearing. Another thing that that made me realize was how hard it actually was to find a good fitting pair of jeans. Thankfully boot cuts were making it back in the scene again, too. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I've always love shopping, so entering my teens was a great excuse to do more of that. It proved a bit tedious though, as the clothes and trends then leaned more towards the slim and petite. I couldn't wear most of them as it fitted me differently, thus the look didn't really come out as I imagined. It often left me frustrated and wishing I had less curves. But as I grew, observation taught me that Filipinas are naturally curvy, and I'm glad that the industry has finally acknowledged that by giving us more options. I'm so proud of how much our fashion industry has broadened since then.<br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">8. How and what made you realize that having a voluptuous body is actually a blessing?</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I think the appreciation comes as you mature. When I was younger, I used to consider it as my </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">curse of curves</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. I just wanted none of it or as little of it as possible. I was still in the process of getting acquainted with my curves then, and figuring out how to 'deal' with them when my friends and I started going out to party. We'd always get dressed and made up in my room and occasionally trade clothes. Then the same thing occurred, only in reverse. My clothes fitted them differently, too. Then they voiced out that they wish they had the curves to fill out the dress like I do. That's when i finally saw the light and thought that 'hey,maybe this isn't so bad after all, no scratch that, this is actually kind of great!' <br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">9. Any words of advice/wisdom for other girls with the same body type.</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Embrace it. There's no other way to go about it. A curse, a blessing, perspective is relative. Its not what you have but what you do with it. Plus, how many women go through surgeries just to get what you naturally have? As a movie aptly put, real women have curves.<br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">10. Describe your signature style.</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Generally my style is eclectic, occasionally eccentric. It also depends on my mood and where I'm going. One rule I now follow though is the rule of opposites; boy meets girl, casual chic; Always match something flowy with something tailored. Complete this formula with chunky accessories and beautiful shoes. Don't leave home without it.<br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">11. Who are you favorite style celebrities and why? Give one or two.</span></span></div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Top of mind comes </span><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1259290180_2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. They're such guilty pleasures. They have different tastes but I can relate to both of them. They're one of the perfect examples of my style philosophy. I love how they create hybrid styles like mixing rock and roll with boho chic. Although they're </span><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1259290180_3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">fraternal twins</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, their style is one of the elements that instantly establishes them as individuals. </span></span></span></div></span></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Another guilty pleasure would be Harajuku girls. And by Harajuku girls, I mean real, uber stylish girls that prowl the streets of Harajuku. They inspire me to be bold and different. Through them, I realized that fashion should be fun and expressive, inspiring even!<br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">xo,</span></div><div style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">eds <3</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div></span></span></div></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-37271964805438807552009-11-12T07:50:00.000-08:002009-11-12T20:05:20.231-08:00It<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;">Let me start by saying <span style="font-weight: bold;">I Love You. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Fully</span>, and <span style="font-style: italic;">with all honesty</span>.<br /><br />I say this as more than a part of our usual exchanges, casually thrown with such ease, but with heartfelt sincerity. Without you, I would be a far different person from who I am now, maybe even less.<br /><br />That is why I feel that I owe you my honesty.<br /><br />I feel disconnected to you lately. <span style="font-style: italic;">Cold</span>. I would not use the "its not you, its me" (or vice versa) cliche, I have to much respect for <span style="font-style: italic;">it</span> than that. Yes, <span style="font-style: italic;">it</span>. Because we are more than you and me, but less than us. So I shall settle with<span style="font-style: italic;"> it</span>.<br /><br />To say that I do not miss you would be a terrible lie. Whether we like it or not, we are a part of each other. Your presence is enough to make me feel that someday,<span style="font-weight: bold;"> I can be great</span>, <span style="font-style: italic;">I am great</span>. You challenge me and inspire me to be better. You remind me that the highest hurdle is the present me. And in order to succeed, I must surpass whoever I am today. Together, we are a force to be reckoned with, not invincible, but close enough. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Together, we can conquer the universe.</span><br /><br />I've been in a dilemma for 11 months now. 317 agonizing days of arguing with myself. Its been a tricky push-pull, on again, off again kind of thing, and I think the elastics holding me together is just about to snap and my bulb is just about to burn out. One month short of a year was enough to teach me that things happen, shit happens, <span style="font-style: italic;">it </span>happens. Whether we mean for it to happen or not, the point still is, <span style="font-style: italic;">it </span>has already happened and sometimes, we just can't help how we feel. I spend eleven months too long being apologetic for <span style="font-style: italic;">it</span>. So now, I shall relish this moment, even just this once, to be honest with myself about how I feel towards <span style="font-style: italic;">it</span>, towards everything.<br /><br />Would feeling this way towards <span style="font-style: italic;">it</span> make me a bad person? Would being just a little less apologetic for<span style="font-style: italic;"> it</span> make me worse? I don't know. But I do know one thing: that this is how I honestly feel.<br /><br />I wanted to feel numb all this time. Ignoring the small, petty things, the slightly bigger ones that should matter, shoving them into one big "Forget File" I store at the dark, dark corners of my mind. It put up a fight, but I shoved it there until the pain, until everything, was swept under the rug. Then I waited, waited for the darkness to consume it until what remained was nothing more than a dull thudding ache.<br /><br />I couldn't name it at first, counldn't fully talk about it without being vague. I feared that acknowledging it would only breathe into life the monsters in my head. And saying it out loud would only affirm its existence.<br /><br />In the midst of my musing over this blog though, and alternately juggling it with my other accounts, it seems like the universe heard, and it has answered, and the medium? Need you even ask?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Facebook</span> says:</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="UIStory_Message"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"> "you can't change the past, but you can change the way you feel about it"<br /></span><br />I guess that made sense. I've always believed that instead of grieving for the things you cannot change, strive to improve the things you can. So instead of grieving for things that were and things that never were, I will just smile. Smile and love.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="UIStory_Message"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;">I believe, there is no such word as <span style="font-style: italic;">loved</span>. Once you love something, you'll always love it, else, it was not love to begin with. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Love is infinite,</span> it can transform and evolve but not run out. <span style="font-style: italic;">Never</span> run out. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">If you find yourself out of love</span>, better check your pulse. Just to be sure.<br /><br />I feel the only right way to end this entry is by saying<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I Love You.</span><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Through and through.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="UIStory_Message"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Maybe a little different than how I did before, but the fact is, I still do.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></span><br /></div><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-22849735706889734162009-10-29T00:50:00.000-07:002009-10-29T00:58:52.186-07:00burning out<div style="text-align: justify;" id="realText"><p style="border-left: 1px dotted silver; margin: 0px; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; padding-left: 5px; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" onmouseover="this.style.background='#F7F7F7';" onmouseout="this.style.background='white';"><span style="font-size:85%;">I don't wanna take a step back, but I'm running on emptiness. We're just no longer on the same track and it's killing me in every way.</span></p><p style="border-left: 1px dotted silver; margin: 0px; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; padding-left: 5px; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" onmouseover="this.style.background='#F7F7F7';" onmouseout="this.style.background='white';"><span style="font-size:85%;">You take me in; shut me out, you're breaking me down. Tell me that I'm the one but I see through your lies. It's all misleading, you keep me bleeding, it's like I'm burning out, burning out.</span></p><p style="border-left: 1px dotted silver; margin: 0px; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; padding-left: 5px; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" onmouseover="this.style.background='#F7F7F7';" onmouseout="this.style.background='white';"><span style="font-size:85%;">You're making me feel so alone. Baby just let me let go cause I just can't escape your ghost. The fire you started once is now burning out, burning out.</span></p><p style="border-left: 1px dotted silver; margin: 0px; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; padding-left: 5px; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" onmouseover="this.style.background='#F7F7F7';" onmouseout="this.style.background='white';"><span style="font-size:85%;">I'm burning out, burning out<br />I just fade away<br />We're burning out, burning out<br />We keep for burning out, burning out</span></p><p style="border-left: 1px dotted silver; margin: 0px; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; padding-left: 5px; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" onmouseover="this.style.background='#F7F7F7';" onmouseout="this.style.background='white';"><span style="font-size:85%;">I can't find myself leaving. And it hurts with every breath I take that I will never know the feeling of you loving me the same way.</span></p><p style="border-left: 1px dotted silver; margin: 0px; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; padding-left: 5px; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" onmouseover="this.style.background='#F7F7F7';" onmouseout="this.style.background='white';"><span style="font-size:85%;">Have you ever even noticed all the pain when you look into my eyes? Tell me, have you ever even thought about that I'm burning, I'm burning out</span></p><p style="border-left: 1px dotted silver; margin: 0px; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; padding-left: 5px; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" onmouseover="this.style.background='#F7F7F7';" onmouseout="this.style.background='white';"><span style="font-size:85%;">You're making me feel so alone. Baby just let me let go cause I just can't escape your ghost<br /></span></p><p style="border-left: 1px dotted silver; margin: 0px; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; padding-left: 5px; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" onmouseover="this.style.background='#F7F7F7';" onmouseout="this.style.background='white';"><span style="font-size:85%;">The fire you started once is now burning out</span></p><p style="border-left: 1px dotted silver; margin: 0px; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; padding-left: 5px; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" onmouseover="this.style.background='#F7F7F7';" onmouseout="this.style.background='white';">Burning out; Tata Young</p><p style="border-left: 1px dotted silver; margin: 0px; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; padding-left: 5px; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" onmouseover="this.style.background='#F7F7F7';" onmouseout="this.style.background='white';"><br /></p><p style="border-left: 1px dotted silver; margin: 0px; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; padding-left: 5px; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" onmouseover="this.style.background='#F7F7F7';" onmouseout="this.style.background='white';">Make me stop listening to this song!</p><p style="border-left: 1px dotted silver; margin: 0px; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; padding-left: 5px; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" onmouseover="this.style.background='#F7F7F7';" onmouseout="this.style.background='white';"><br /></p></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-51119306596376425992009-10-29T00:07:00.000-07:002009-10-29T00:50:15.398-07:00dearest alex<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEI-i5NU-LEOtKtsI_yz0iQbAx_QlxBKIM9vF2aHGNoMknyQA4TAFTiRTzow2tSLuJ1bHKdGJ0hYllvrYmhldHzYmrJSGNFneKc6I7gjyzyaLTjTK5nLOcSAcAnU6K7EN9t8rCIwoOIV_r/s1600-h/b-alexander-mcqueen-we-4a188b60073a.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEI-i5NU-LEOtKtsI_yz0iQbAx_QlxBKIM9vF2aHGNoMknyQA4TAFTiRTzow2tSLuJ1bHKdGJ0hYllvrYmhldHzYmrJSGNFneKc6I7gjyzyaLTjTK5nLOcSAcAnU6K7EN9t8rCIwoOIV_r/s320/b-alexander-mcqueen-we-4a188b60073a.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397920801082563026" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">(Alexander McQueen Fall 08)</span></span><br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFMd4y741hhoGxrXfmHO95Rc1Heo3uyKNLoTVgMeL6fLSXKYOjCDAE5by-oOh-DRewdFpQLD_fkm5TUSWAIYFFGtcAHzi0uUzX4BiD9L3fi_bFXnJhBugH-U_-IEOPF0Iye5mhP3oZhV7I/s1600-h/slide_3076_43346_large.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFMd4y741hhoGxrXfmHO95Rc1Heo3uyKNLoTVgMeL6fLSXKYOjCDAE5by-oOh-DRewdFpQLD_fkm5TUSWAIYFFGtcAHzi0uUzX4BiD9L3fi_bFXnJhBugH-U_-IEOPF0Iye5mhP3oZhV7I/s320/slide_3076_43346_large.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397919584673218610" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMyiorDJOfFlzuxr65SBVn7i-_XX8QF0cKbwDrIpEJfUYESiIIkvGW3P78GsiFNTwL2tmEpStjjdsuZMU5FnwI2K7YQVSW4a-8NotNecSlDyNdP8EV9FXx07KK-sOcIvnbISuf461uTB79/s1600-h/slide_3076_43349_large.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMyiorDJOfFlzuxr65SBVn7i-_XX8QF0cKbwDrIpEJfUYESiIIkvGW3P78GsiFNTwL2tmEpStjjdsuZMU5FnwI2K7YQVSW4a-8NotNecSlDyNdP8EV9FXx07KK-sOcIvnbISuf461uTB79/s320/slide_3076_43349_large.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397915354466923010" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">(Alexander Mc Queen 10-inch </span><span style="font-style: italic;">high heels)</span></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Dearest Alexander,<br /><br />Once upon a time, <span style="font-style: italic;">I loved you.</span><br /><br />When you spun dreams of tulle not tragedy.<br /><br />Where hast my Indian princesses donning ball gowns in winter gone?<br /><br />What happened to their bejeweled feet?<br /><br />Now all I am left with are elephant feet and wistful memories<br /><br />With a broken heart, i bid thee farewell<br /><br />in hopes that spring/summer shall ressurect my love for you.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >in the mean time, yours truly is smitten with another Alexander<br />with the same initials as fall/winter. </span><br /><br /></div></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-9946786895929853652009-10-21T11:10:00.001-07:002009-10-21T11:13:27.371-07:00word vomit<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS8A3FBZLpx-AvWRnVBtqUpBOwy7uJivkaINhr0v-xik5enFjCriza1djy0ok_eQz3cGWg2p33CQMRYnH4a4XorafFRdx_I-Xj9CTb3alodtxYp7idWimUj0mIk27Bh8UcdZMMhQwt8Gnk/s1600-h/lips.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS8A3FBZLpx-AvWRnVBtqUpBOwy7uJivkaINhr0v-xik5enFjCriza1djy0ok_eQz3cGWg2p33CQMRYnH4a4XorafFRdx_I-Xj9CTb3alodtxYp7idWimUj0mIk27Bh8UcdZMMhQwt8Gnk/s320/lips.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395117669631038834" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">harsh words<br />and negative gossips<br />are like vomit<br />you can never swallow it back<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-84220985048323335182009-10-14T10:41:00.000-07:002009-10-29T00:45:20.871-07:00disco.nnection.no.tice<div style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" > <span style="font-style: italic;">Maybe its the sound of the rain softly pelting against the window.</span></span> <span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" > </span> <span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;"> <br />Maybe its the way the chandelier bathed everything in a warm glow,<br />sharply contrasting against the chill brought by the weather. </span></span> <span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;"> <br />Or maybe, its cause of something I saw which I just wish I didn't<br />coupled with this stupid song I have on repeat.</span></span><br /><br /><br />The grass withers<br /><br />and the tears of the sky turn to ice<br /><br />as our paths intertwine.<br /><br /><br />I tread carefully upon the floe,<br /><br />Careful not to disrupt its fragile surface.<br /><br />Underneath, the river's water rage.<br /><br /><br />On tipped toes, I danced around you.<br /><br />A ballerina's routine.<br /><br />Calm, composed,<span style="font-style: italic;"> calculated.</span><br /><br /><br />The music mutes the audience<br /><br />that comprises only of you<br /><br />One drop and the spell is broken<br /><br /><br /> <br /> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">Sometimes I want to just do as I please just to spite you.<br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">But the thing is, I love you too much for that.</span><br /><br /></span><br /></div><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-35327557128733173532009-10-06T23:10:00.000-07:002009-10-07T01:12:08.916-07:00golden honey<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> Everybody knows that girls are made </span><span style="font-family:arial;">of sugar, spice, and everything nice.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> But once upon a time,</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">there was a spice shortage in girly land.</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> So they had to make do and </span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">just added more everything nice and a jar of honey</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> for that batch.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> And out of that batch,</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> came one little girl named Gold.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> And no other name could've suited her more.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> This Gold is not the luxurious kind of gold, </span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">encrusting precious stones and gems.</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">This Gold is more like honey,</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> all rich and warm.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /> The kind of honey you put on your tea</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> or drizzle generously on your pancakes</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> on bright, sunshine-y mornings.</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> The kind of Gold no sweet tooth like me</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> can ever resist.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> So when she asked for my help </span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">to pick out a dress for her brother's wedding</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> I was only too happy to oblige. :)</span></span><br /></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimzbD8UOfZO6wojePmdOux8GPjCgTRgP54qhPJ0wI94zL-LLKMqRrCo3R71BWvFIMj6jx8CqRr1aTUJ1LNGHconojIkKwYsTe0Nn21tdOePgcvpwpBUptqPeuIbKtVjcPZWE5Z4cf6WxiF/s1600-h/IMG_6416.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimzbD8UOfZO6wojePmdOux8GPjCgTRgP54qhPJ0wI94zL-LLKMqRrCo3R71BWvFIMj6jx8CqRr1aTUJ1LNGHconojIkKwYsTe0Nn21tdOePgcvpwpBUptqPeuIbKtVjcPZWE5Z4cf6WxiF/s320/IMG_6416.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389737615169001794" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Don't fret, precious: "Am i really wearing this?"</span><br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> Meet Gold, or Goldie, to me and Dalton.</span><span style="font-family:arial;">She really wanted to be pretty for her brother's wedding.</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> So we opted for a dress :)</span></span><br /></div><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlSo5-gtU9WDhAjjkipSUIGgnCyvd33ZrB171_8hEoIm-k5qkw8S7jTMv3LG9LfyrOm1Aczpjrt4vWTpxbvfbFfrvLPQdWwREpn-iL_z8TBaDkDo4wiaXSk0P5pnvj93yzPg726Yd6-qdt/s1600-h/IMG_6415.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlSo5-gtU9WDhAjjkipSUIGgnCyvd33ZrB171_8hEoIm-k5qkw8S7jTMv3LG9LfyrOm1Aczpjrt4vWTpxbvfbFfrvLPQdWwREpn-iL_z8TBaDkDo4wiaXSk0P5pnvj93yzPg726Yd6-qdt/s320/IMG_6415.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389737605904520946" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" ></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >"My first dress in a long while"</span></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> Receiving gratitude from another person</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> is always a wonderful reward.</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">But getting to see her eyes light up</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> when we found the perfect dress</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> was another high all together.</span></span><br /></div><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpmi-xg5u-bLeIvS12p9kSyBnZVoFaFIFDgMZSV1irZkrczhIT_V2BZB6u_wLaIXOZgGGkhki0pMmrfkStZwj2eHFr0KXSmoVsSPvTzKkcuKfJf5kkFD7_HkQPrVRz7PNDJTHDm034KXWU/s1600-h/IMG_6469.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpmi-xg5u-bLeIvS12p9kSyBnZVoFaFIFDgMZSV1irZkrczhIT_V2BZB6u_wLaIXOZgGGkhki0pMmrfkStZwj2eHFr0KXSmoVsSPvTzKkcuKfJf5kkFD7_HkQPrVRz7PNDJTHDm034KXWU/s320/IMG_6469.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389737624836036738" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Gold with her now sister - in - law </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">getting prepped up for the wedding.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" >photo credits: Shaira Luna<br /></span><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> Having the opportunity</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> of helping a genuinely nice person like Gold</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> gave me a glimpse of what it must feel like</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> to be a fairy godmother.</span></span><br /></div><br /><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"></div><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-57652405134334588282009-09-30T00:19:00.000-07:002009-09-30T00:37:09.135-07:00Dust Gatherers<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvVerrMc8zDirYzBTjMGAE6oJfetTv85Dmbvg5anfuBquWwMmeWjVuNRjWntLFzTTlB10PepG_z0n8m6ifbMtOxXmc9tx1eH1giRoOMfEI_Fj5mbRm04xtzCsJWvM9xmKHmDUzgGhjH1xN/s1600-h/black_private_property_sign_calendar-p158026365161195036q6ir_400.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvVerrMc8zDirYzBTjMGAE6oJfetTv85Dmbvg5anfuBquWwMmeWjVuNRjWntLFzTTlB10PepG_z0n8m6ifbMtOxXmc9tx1eH1giRoOMfEI_Fj5mbRm04xtzCsJWvM9xmKHmDUzgGhjH1xN/s320/black_private_property_sign_calendar-p158026365161195036q6ir_400.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387157611741489842" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" ><br /> Forgetfulness<br /><br /> Forgetfulness and selfishness.<br /><br /> I think the problem with people is that they tend to forget. They forget and yet are too selfish for their own good.<br /><br /> Why do people always feel the incessant, needless urge to to stake claim? Why must we label the things we enjoy, cherish, adore, lust after, the things that make us happy as ours? Can we not find contentment in having to have experienced it?<br /><br /> Everything in this world is temporary and borrowed; but most of the time, we forget. We forget because we are too preoccupied with scheming and planning on how we make it ours and stake claim.<br /><br /> But after that, then what?<br /><br /> Another stripe<br /><br /> Another notch on the bedpost<br /><br /> Another frame on the wall.<br /><br /> Then you move on, another conquest awaits.<br /><br /> And the apple of your eye then turn into just another dust gatherer, waiting, lurking, in the dark corners of your room.</span><br /><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-11519551006346570262009-09-28T19:23:00.001-07:002009-09-28T19:30:52.776-07:00cotton candy crush<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnSZ-Hj_Tgn1Z2op4vEuvVWCHfC5Qcsp4vLHhvX7I1Eg15zVhVrFTnoC_ipaTskfnYuUbHl-kqurdBFZHyxeHwWUC9_dt09Cd61cXm_ZHrcT8Uo32c1b6fQJUzR_0vKcix47Qo7Xwm1c7V/s1600-h/I_love_Candy_P_by_88blackrose88.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnSZ-Hj_Tgn1Z2op4vEuvVWCHfC5Qcsp4vLHhvX7I1Eg15zVhVrFTnoC_ipaTskfnYuUbHl-kqurdBFZHyxeHwWUC9_dt09Cd61cXm_ZHrcT8Uo32c1b6fQJUzR_0vKcix47Qo7Xwm1c7V/s320/I_love_Candy_P_by_88blackrose88.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386709523976047122" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >I Love Candy by 88blackrose88</span><br /><br />Sometimes crushes are like cotton candy - they look yummy and totally tempting,<br />but when you actually got a taste, there's not much there.<br />Suddenly, you're left with disappointment and no crush.<br />Sometimes, a crush should stay a crush, and live as a delicious daydream.<br />That way, you'll always have someone to think about as you drift off to sleep...<br /></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-22915335938572886742009-09-24T03:09:00.000-07:002009-09-24T03:28:42.137-07:00sketch<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyQTXqab5Z92ZBvUK36Vu8GiTmjBMwWOsUp3mHwn40O2JcW-rFK3FXhUWOKh_Dfbwj9ASW6AdpBKgWwOWoblp8ovof6lyITnLr1fW8V8gjluiRnX-WdJc_AJ-geHay7r3V-yIBEB6y868N/s1600-h/page0_blog_entry18_3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyQTXqab5Z92ZBvUK36Vu8GiTmjBMwWOsUp3mHwn40O2JcW-rFK3FXhUWOKh_Dfbwj9ASW6AdpBKgWwOWoblp8ovof6lyITnLr1fW8V8gjluiRnX-WdJc_AJ-geHay7r3V-yIBEB6y868N/s320/page0_blog_entry18_3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384974643207143282" border="0" /></a> <span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >There is no means of testing which decision is better,
<br />because there is no basis for comparison.
<br />We live everything as it comes, without warning,
<br />like an actor growing on cold.
<br />And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself?
<br />That is why life is always like a sketch.
<br />No, <span style="font-style: italic;">"sketch"</span> is not quite the word,
<br />because a sketch is an outline of something,
<br /> the groundwork for a picture,
<br />whereas the sketch that is our life is a sketch for nothing,
<br />an outline with no picture.</span>
<br /></div>
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<![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" >- an excerpt from </span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being</span></span>
<br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"></div><div id="refHTML"></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7223615871705641435.post-87152447126444556042009-09-14T22:12:00.000-07:002009-09-14T22:46:39.398-07:00erase, rewind/forward<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBKlI8JvPHsTHKCm8nRaAIn-lZr9khlRTD1ZhtB5eKvTc7dW-XFrainNaXK5W3c-wfNBgJXnUyDzETfbDIJ9CPw-2rXLhtyuxRmwlKNBIy1lEx6zGeSSaE1Qaz4h0AnX0x6zMS0y7E0tY8/s1600-h/regret,mistakes,eraser,hands,mistake,lol-45012c3183f1caf603267944dd3cb4d0_h.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBKlI8JvPHsTHKCm8nRaAIn-lZr9khlRTD1ZhtB5eKvTc7dW-XFrainNaXK5W3c-wfNBgJXnUyDzETfbDIJ9CPw-2rXLhtyuxRmwlKNBIy1lEx6zGeSSaE1Qaz4h0AnX0x6zMS0y7E0tY8/s320/regret,mistakes,eraser,hands,mistake,lol-45012c3183f1caf603267944dd3cb4d0_h.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381559805219906754" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">"There is a way to be good again."</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">- The Kite Runner</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">It was during my senior year when I first heard about <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Kite_Runner_%28film%29">The Kite Runner.</a> A friend's sister commented on a poem I wrote asking if it was from the novel. I watched it last weekend and finally understood why she asked such about my poem. (which I shall post after i grab it from my former blog)<br /><br />It was almost like another take on Cain and Abel, but I shall save the movie review for another post. For now, the movie was a nice reminder that we might not be able to erase the mistakes we have committed in the past, but we can always start anew and correct them.<br /><br /></div></div>scarletqueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10827114459738186027noreply@blogger.com2