<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929</id><updated>2011-11-27T16:07:36.857-08:00</updated><category term='wikipilipinas'/><category term='filipina writing contest'/><category term='In memory of Guillermo Ladeza'/><category term='entry'/><title type='text'>jrealm</title><subtitle type='html'>"prose and poetry"</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>71</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-246377478315117664</id><published>2011-05-03T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-03T06:29:43.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Breathe</title><content type='html'>It is now that I finally decided to pursue blogging. It was not too long ago, when I wanted to monetize and start a blog that addresses women concerns. To start it off, I readily searched for sites that empower women through writing. As you can see, I am in the midst of waiting for my next project; some job that will take off come mid May and the waiting led to resistance and frustration so to speak.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I do not normally write about these feelings here, simply because I wanted to keep everything discreet. However, I find it hard to follow my mind for my heart speaks louder. I am on the brink of losing hope and I know, that such is one tragedy to make. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With the intent of reviving this blog and letting others know more about my writing, I decided to write this piece. I am a writer and my heart will always favor writing. The world might think that I am a big mess; a fur ball that is running out of steam...on the contrary, the more I feel this frustration, the more willing I become to prove something....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May the good Lord guide me in my journey....it is He who gave me the will and it is only He who will make things happen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;JCL &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-246377478315117664?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/246377478315117664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=246377478315117664&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/246377478315117664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/246377478315117664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2011/05/breathe.html' title='Breathe'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-7034198470088573512</id><published>2010-11-30T09:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T09:59:43.696-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A TONE-AHOLIC SURPRISE!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Getting my first paycheck as a content developer online did not prevent me from pursuing my another “first love”- shoes. In fact, my hubby knows that I am on the verge of becoming a shoe addict and a sandals aficionado as I keep on buying, purchasing and should I say hoarding what I feel is the most basic need and prime commodity of all time—Shoes!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It has been said that deprivation during your early years is like dealing with some sort of personality disorder come adulthood. For example, if you haven’t got the chance to rack up on clothes, it is likely that you will end up buying lots of fabric, as if nothing’s really enough for you. So, should I say that my deprivation when it comes to shoes affected my thinking that once I got hold of my hard-earned cash, &lt;span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;a portion of it is and will always be allotted to my own brand of comfort food. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I first heard about FitFlop barely a year ago and yes, you would think that why a self-confessed shoe aficionado would hear about it later than soon? Well, I have to say that while Manolo Blahniks and Jimmy Choos are way off my radar; my love for what’s stylish, sensible, and practical is what I personally go for. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I hate stilettos and I never looked good in Mary Janes and I do have an off and on relationship with open-toed shoes. And because I’m neither an aspiring model nor a yuppie who’s most likely to sacrifice comfort, I’d rather have the less pretentious, and the comfy sandals and footwear that won’t keep draining my bank account, let alone, add more callus. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;But don’t get me wrong. I may not be the first in line when it comes to hearing about this toning footwear, but I keep on targeting its stalls whenever I visit Trinoma or other malls. You may not understand it the way I do but believe me, my long quest for what’s comfy, and usable ended a couple of months ago. I remember when I can’t seem to find that one right shoe. I’ve sailed through dozens of choices, even contemplated buying my first stiletto just to satisfy my insatiable thirst for “the shoe.” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It started like mental suggestion. My friend told me that FitFlop was a great choice, all because while you’re wearing it, you are getting something that other shoe brands can’t possibly do for you- a workout. Well, I have to be honest hear, I’m no health buff so what had drawn me more to the FitFlop is not its famous tag line but its noticeable exterior. Not to forget that one FitFlop model that boasts of sparkly, gem-like studs that make you feel light on your feet and stylish on your toes. And as I keep on counting the days toward my goal, the vision of this endless cue of ladies wearing the same pair kills me, practically draining my spirit and cashing in like tick tocks in an A-Bomb waiting to explode! The cure: Yes, people, I bought my first pair of FitFlop last September and it inspired me to buy more! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Of course, this simple lady deserves something classy so I got my Pietra and how I love its pewter color. This Tone-aholic Surprise (errr…should I say a Toning-inspired Shopaholic buy) deserves its Class-A ratings when it comes to finding the shoe…your shoe (or sandal whichever is your choice). Not only are you wearing something slim and stylish, you are getting a workout at a time when you needed it the most. I also noticed how my posture improved while wearing it, and yes, toning my leg muscles won’t be a problem too. Besides, how can you not enjoy your FitFlops when you can end up having a firmer butt? So now, you are not only getting toned, you finally have a crack at finding the best jeans for you (hitting two birds with one stone). &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Now, I can be trendy while donning a casual getup during mall strolls. Now, I can wear “my shoe” without even looking at other stalls. Now, I can say that my quest for that one elusive goal ended with a Tone-aholic surprise that made me love my FitFlops more. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-7034198470088573512?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/7034198470088573512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=7034198470088573512&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/7034198470088573512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/7034198470088573512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2010/11/tone-aholic-surprise.html' title='A TONE-AHOLIC SURPRISE!'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-676170499099255069</id><published>2009-11-01T00:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T00:16:22.401-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Graceful Exit</title><content type='html'>Right now, I feel that major decisions are about to come into play. First, my supposed trip to Palawan is seemingly a start of something new and fresh. Second, my recent 'literary exits' have proven that the only constant thing here in life is change. It's been weeks now since I am feeling a little overwhelmed. At some point, I feel that I am no longer capable to do the things that I'm used to doing. A part of me was inching to get away...as if I am about to face something that is both fearful and exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been to certain crossroads before and each I have successfully conquered. There was even  a time when I felt nothing or no one can ever harm me...was it wrong invincibility? I guess...&lt;br /&gt;However, I feel that such feeling came from a long history where I have ruled things based on my conviction and faith and it helped me to be stronger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I know that I needed some rest. I need to get away. I need to feel that life still has something to offer. I have to be alive and well again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If in the course of my journey, I have to stop momentarily and give up everything...then I have to follow what my heart asks of me. I have to take some time and breathe. I have to die a little in order to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If such journey and yearning wants me to give up writing, at least for a short period then there is nothing to complain about and discern. All I know is that I am not well and I need to find my inner self.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-676170499099255069?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/676170499099255069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=676170499099255069&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/676170499099255069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/676170499099255069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2009/11/graceful-exit.html' title='A Graceful Exit'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-8101699621121291880</id><published>2009-09-15T09:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T09:27:25.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Realizations</title><content type='html'>There are things in life that give you the slightest hint of doubt,&lt;br /&gt;There are those who fuel that doubt and others who satisfy themselves when you are in doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgiveness is stronger when you finally realized that you truly deserve a second chance,&lt;br /&gt;when you are ready to face the world again as if you were a newly-born child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have kept wounds open for too long, had tried to remedy the pain as if I am a master of my own conviction. At times, when I failed to see my worth... move on, it is now that I am finally seeing the dawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgiveness is crucial if you cannot live without it,&lt;br /&gt;Forgiveness is like your own brand of self-healing kit.&lt;br /&gt;With the way things have finally shown itself, you will then see how forgiveness returns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for myself...it came at a point when I am reading God's message.&lt;br /&gt;It came at a moment when I am no longer weakened by despair.&lt;br /&gt;When I opened my eyes, my heart began to feel better...&lt;br /&gt;When I felt my own touch, it already made me feel that I am finally regaining what was once broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Reading! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JLC&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-8101699621121291880?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/8101699621121291880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=8101699621121291880&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/8101699621121291880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/8101699621121291880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2009/09/realizations.html' title='Realizations'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-8693007397415054080</id><published>2009-07-21T10:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T10:41:56.344-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange</title><content type='html'>Strange is a person who loves for he merely thinks of his emotions and himself...&lt;br /&gt;Strange is the person who fears for he is afraid of something he will eventually meet...&lt;br /&gt;Strange is a person who keeps on dreaming, for in his mind he knew of its failing...&lt;br /&gt;Strange is one who finds others worthy when in truth everyone is not thinking of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love presents a couple of strange ways, with hopes of bringing not a start but mere end,&lt;br /&gt;Love is strange when you feel that the one you love has been lost forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange can be nice and easy..&lt;br /&gt;It can be hard too and stiff,&lt;br /&gt;But regardless of how strange life can be...we are always willing to suffer and live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May the glorious past of mankind redeem itself&lt;br /&gt;For in our ways lie the truth of our beings.&lt;br /&gt;We can never be sure of tomorrows nor ends.&lt;br /&gt;But we can be certain of love that is unfolding each minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To those who I have loved and shared myself...&lt;br /&gt;I want you to keep a part of my life as well.&lt;br /&gt;For in this journey where life seems too strange,&lt;br /&gt;It is you,  my dear friends, who'd let me find myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-8693007397415054080?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/8693007397415054080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=8693007397415054080&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/8693007397415054080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/8693007397415054080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2009/07/strange.html' title='Strange'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-711502683189433909</id><published>2009-04-01T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T10:16:56.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The thing about my birthday :)</title><content type='html'>I've been hibernating for quite some time now,hehe. I have lots of work to do and don't get me wrong, I am definitely not complaining. It's just that I never got to realize how time passes that fast, it's like looking straight into something that suddenly disappears, whew!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've decided to post my entry on this very special date....my birthday :)&lt;br /&gt;Let me start with the 'good and best things'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I had a new set of project to work on.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am continually enjoying my job.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am spending this day with my hubby, Mark :)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I will skip writing just for a day to give time to myself.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I will make sure to finish all my tasks come weekend.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;I know, this list is very work-oriented, kind of personal too but it only shows how I value my work as a writer. For those who knew me well enough, they would either think of me as a workaholic or as an addict,hehe. Meaning, I tend to forget things due to my writing. But for those who claim that they knew me well enough...well, no comment :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest, I am a very simple person with very simple needs. I take joy in everything that makes me happy, even through the simplest of ways. Whenever I learn of a friend's success, I take pride in their achievements. Whenever I learn of their mistakes, I tend not to judge but instead learn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many things to be thankful for. In fact, if I'm about to list every detail, it would take me basically a lifetime. My life is so imperfect that I find its hidden perfections; how it completes me in the process and how I end up being who I am now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have my share of mistakes...many of them in fact. Some of which bear scars that would never heal or leave my mind. However, God has taught me one thing and that is how to redeem myself through soft-spoken words. How I need to re evaluate things if necessary and apply what is meant for each.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my husband, his affectionate ways, his trust....&lt;br /&gt;I love my mother, despite her weaknesses and our trials...&lt;br /&gt;I love my relatives, my aunts, for I see a part of me in them...&lt;br /&gt;I love my friends, for through them, I seek support and advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each of them makes me who I am as a grand daughter, daughter, niece, sister, friend, and wife.&lt;br /&gt;They are like my multi-colored bubbles, which spring out of nowhere, adding zest and spice in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing about my birthday is...I get a year older but with an upper hand :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-711502683189433909?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/711502683189433909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=711502683189433909&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/711502683189433909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/711502683189433909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2009/04/thing-about-my-birthday.html' title='The thing about my birthday :)'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-1722120568275189264</id><published>2009-02-17T16:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T17:13:58.217-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Things...</title><content type='html'>I took the idea from my cousin Lalaine after reading her post in Facebook. I got inspired and thought, "what exactly are the things I consider random?" In her post, she took the liberty to list around 25 random things. It involved petty to the most substantive; simple to the most peculiar. Nevertheless, I find it enjoyable to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here's my take on the list of 'random things.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Finding myself praying during seemingly-odd moments. Like I get to do it while I lie in my bed subconsciously waiting to fall asleep; I also do it every time I find myself waking up.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love having my coffee this way- 1 tsp. of instant coffee, 1 1/2 tsps. of sugar. That's it. If I feel like being healthy, I add a half teaspoon of milk.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Doing my hair and dabbing some powder before facing my PC.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Putting a glass of water in front of me, without necessarily drinking it..let's say I just love having it there :)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Arranging my fave pillows according to size, color, etc.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Placing my fave book in front with the others occupying the secluded part of the shelf.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Can't leave my house with the gate and door keys. It has a separate compartment in my bag...always.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm a bit OC (obsessive-compulsive), so I make sure that my things are arranged properly. If someone makes a fuss or tries to displace things, I can automatically know. It's like my second nature, hehe.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I heard there are those who can wear their fave jeans twice, but with me...it can never be the case. If I wear it the first time, then it meets the laundry basket right away.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am more of a routine-loving person, so if ever there is someone/something that disrupts it with no prior notice....I get pissed off. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tuesdays with Mark. That is the only day that I get to spend quality time with my hubby. Meaning-no work, no other commitments. It's a must! I know that when Tuesdays come, there is simply no other important person than him :)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cleaning my room every two days. That is thoroughly...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;This one started as an acquired habit. Taking a deep breath if I feel depressed or if someone accidentally hit a nerve...but the catch is- I never get to practice this on #8. (It takes awhile though,hehe).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;If you feel like writing your own 'random things' list, why not start now. Who knows, you might find a number of surprising things about yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Reading!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-1722120568275189264?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/1722120568275189264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=1722120568275189264&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/1722120568275189264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/1722120568275189264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2009/02/random-things.html' title='Random Things...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-3744769890858340112</id><published>2009-02-04T07:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T08:41:39.704-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love thoughts Part 2</title><content type='html'>"Love is always patient and kind. It is never jealous. Love is never boastful or conceited. It is never rude or selfish. It does not take offense and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people's sins, but delights in the truth. It is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope and to endure whatever comes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just imagine if we can love fully if not live up to these standards. Most of the time, we are blinded by the emotions we use and feel. We love because of many reasons, some of which bear logic, most of which clueless. We are like souls in constant search of affirmation or love itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, people tend to love because of need. The kind of wanting which serves their ego well. If for some reason, this person leaves us wanting for change, then maybe it is not such a bad thing.  But when such need turns into selfishness, egos are fed with nothing but false hopes instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it really hard to love truly? Do we need to love and eventually lose before realizing our mistakes? But what does one need to do in order to love successfully? I guess, the answer lies in our hearts more than our heads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes us selfish is our capacity to react selfishly. We own love the wrong way. We tend to think that the other person is the only one we need when in fact, it can't be the case. We love because we feel it, we love because we know we're giving a part of ourselves. Come to think of it, it was unselfishness bringing two hearts together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love needs not to be right or wrong unless you decide which is which. It is always right even though others see nothing of it. It just becomes wrong when we heed to desires and questionable yearnings.  Our choices define the way we live as people and it is still our choices that define love along the way. For the truth is-love is something that our hearts see with eyes closed...never open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our love may not be perfect...it may not be ideal in itself. But what makes love greater is our ability to choose and feel what must be felt. Of course, we can never just succeed by choosing the ones we love, as such brings nothing to a certain extent. For choices only become truths unfolding once you see respect and understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is a great feeling, no doubt. But once you let this feeling overwhelm you, nothing will ever be the same. You will be like one fish out of water. You will be like a spirit blown away by steams of urge and not pure air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not saying that all loves are not bound for greatness. I am saying that love and its depth remains a mystery always. We can always choose but options provide no guarantees. The only workable thing is to risk and hope for something better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in love with this person not because I need him but because I see him changing me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in love with my husband not because he provides well but because he provides me with something more than wealth...he makes me see my own value over and over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in love with him not because he feeds my ego, in fact he puts me rightly in place. He did whatever is necessary to protect me. And even if I refuse to see it myself, he patiently waited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a moment when I felt ours was a love wasted...but his heart refuses to give in. At times when he feels how estranged I'd been...he made me see reasons why it should not be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in love with him for he understands and owns up to his wrongdoings. He is indeed a better man realizing his own strengths...admitting his weaknesses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in love with him for in his eyes, I see how he sees me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been the worst of enemies and became the best of friends. We made mistakes...we have been tested...but love kept us and never failed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-3744769890858340112?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/3744769890858340112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=3744769890858340112&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/3744769890858340112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/3744769890858340112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2009/02/love-thoughts-part-2.html' title='Love thoughts Part 2'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-1261196698465270727</id><published>2009-01-03T00:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T01:12:02.767-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's 2009 Everyone!!!</title><content type='html'>It's a wonderful feeling, starting a new year. We can finally bid those grotesque moments good bye and move forward. As for what I did last new year's eve, would you believe that I have to work? Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining, besides who would have wanted to start their year frowning?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a list of things to do this first quarter of 2009. I must remind myself to stick to my pre-conceived plans and get each done accordingly. I have missed a lot of gatherings, and mini-reunions due to lack of free time and I know that sooner I have to make up for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my family and relatives in Bulacan and Laguna. I wanted to pay each of them a visit but somehow my inability to do so cripples me to death. Meaning, self-imposed guilt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to go some place and spend a long, uninterrupted vacation with Mark...just the two of us...have quality time and enjoy further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to start my essay, some  piece of work that's been untouched for months now since I started accepting online work. I need to finish it by end of February and pass it before deadline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to see my god children...the ones who left abroad or the ones who have no free time to visit me either. People nowadays need to remind themselves to unwind a little, be free and grow a bit bolder, don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to give my husband a seemingly-perfect gift. For in truth, the last time I gave him one was November, during his birthday. You know, whenever we buy each other gifts, we basically ask what we like to receive. In such way, less mistakes,hehe. Maybe another toy? A new pair of shoes? An audio equipment? Well, he's the one who is truly indecisive,haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for me...I'm now attuned to the fact that as you grow older, you tend to give than receive. Of course, I still miss those days wherein my aunts give me lots of gifts. From dresses to shoes to bags to everything. It really shames me to think how they had given me their time and effort when I was still an innocent-looking, fragile girl, hehe. That due to my stubbornness, I have not been able to reciprocate appropriately. Gladly, they have asked me to be a god mother to their children or at least some of them and in my own minuscule way, I can somehow return the favor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my self-proclaimed dedication to this list, I have felt that I work best under pressure. I need to set a time line. Impose upon myself an ultimatum. Build an itinerary with urgency at all costs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be specific with my goals. Learn a few tricks. Maximize opportunities. Take on bigger risks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2009 will be my year and I mean it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-1261196698465270727?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/1261196698465270727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=1261196698465270727&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/1261196698465270727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/1261196698465270727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-2009-everyone.html' title='It&apos;s 2009 Everyone!!!'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-6371937470394880127</id><published>2008-12-12T08:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T08:42:14.474-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What a year...</title><content type='html'>My god...a couple of days more and 2008 is over...I can't believe seeing time fleet so fast...like one hurrying wind. I was sure that after this, I will be thinking of writing about something that would make me see my future...with family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventful. This is how I describe my year...so many have happened...some things have gone wasted while some have been readily achieved. I was sure that for the past months, I never really thought that my year would be like this. And now it's as if it just happened yesterday...all turned into mere memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I started the year re uniting friendships, building old relationships, meeting special friends. Then, I had to endure this terrible pain, agonizing moments like chips off my frame. I was like wallowing behind unknown foes and shadowy lanes. I found myself deciding on matters which would lead me to either past or present. And slowly, I had to find my way in each of them. Full of decisions, surprises and re makes, hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there came the survival and acceptance of whatever fate has for me. I decided to continue what would be best for everyone and I had to be firm and strong-minded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end...I realized that regardless of how many adventures or events, I should be ready to fill in the emptiness and have it full with more surprises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In short...I was taught the biggest lesson and learned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my!!! I can't even tell how mixed my reactions and emotions were, how lively my days had been, how such had turned from boring to simply carefree...wandering. I never even knew how lucky I was to be here and face the progress, for at some point I felt I'll be dying and will soon be meeting death. Mellow dramatic? Maybe, but that's the only way I got in describing what has been with me this past 2008 and frankly, I am beginning to realize the awe and excitement behind every despair...loss...discouragement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can definitely say anything and be with everyone I want but it did not erase the fact that this year, I also spent time with mindful, cold-hearted people. And would you believe how simple things can turn your life around in an instant? Geez, life is incredibly wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is all about love still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love on the contrary cannot always be your life. Be smart in choosing who to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trust is power. It can make you see the goodness and once broken, can leave you defenseless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting over and moving forward is a process. It takes time to forget and heal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gratitude is something that you must give sincerely. Appreciate whatever life has in store for you...see everything with both eyes open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God...as always...will never leave you. He will be there at your darkest moment and keep you close once you're in dire need. He will supply with air like one tank in re fill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventful....emotionally riveting...pleasant....energizing.&lt;br /&gt;2009 will be the beginning and culmination of everything I learned and kept...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May God continue blessing us!&lt;br /&gt;Keep the faith!!!&lt;br /&gt;Love and be loved....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy holidays!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Cheers and kudos for a  fruitful year!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-6371937470394880127?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6371937470394880127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=6371937470394880127&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6371937470394880127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6371937470394880127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-year.html' title='What a year...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-6158625801085121804</id><published>2008-11-21T04:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T04:50:48.338-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Got to see "Twilight."</title><content type='html'>A flick full of action and romance; a drama set in the deepest forests of Forks with its roots all the way from Seattle; a flight of both life and dreams where beginnings never end and endings have beginnings...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes...it's the latest craze after Harry's and is expected to rise even way beyond it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have to give full credit to Stephenie Meyer for writing this series of tales, a saga that's waiting to evolve from something scary to romantic. None other than..."Twilight."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I have started collecting books after buying my first set- The Harry Potter series then it was soon followed by C. S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia. My addiction for fantasy is somewhat made real through these books and glad that I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Twilight" is bent on becoming a classic. Aside from the fact that it appeals to a wider audience, it also catches the attention of vampire stories' enthusiasts around the globe. It was beautifully written making use of  vivid descriptions and intensified emotions; it transcends the fluidity of life in time and makes love a complexity worthy to own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got to say the characters evoke in them personalities of pros and cons; the highlights of the story marked by Edward's mysterious facade and Bella's inquisitive approach. You will notice the writer's expertise as she shows the details through descriptions as if each setting is being seen at hand. You will naturally feel how each page makes you crave for more as if you're one vampire on the hunt...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really can't wait to watch this film come November 26th though I have to wait further than that. And since my insatiable thirst for this romantic adventure won't be quenched for now...the least thing that I can do was to draw first blood in buying the second book entitled "New Moon."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-6158625801085121804?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6158625801085121804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=6158625801085121804&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6158625801085121804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6158625801085121804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/11/got-to-see-twilight.html' title='Got to see &quot;Twilight.&quot;'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-1716228439473326355</id><published>2008-11-09T04:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T04:58:37.708-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Good Fight</title><content type='html'>My affinity with Coelho's works started when I first read "The Alchemist" then "The Zahir." Both are great works that I soon realized my wanting to write one some day_ my own book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of this writing, I'm still in the process of reading and hopefully finishing the book. I wanted to do it so bad that regardless of my schedule, I would keep track and make sure I'll read a page or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's  something that I want to share with you guys, a passage more so an excerpt from the book. This has something to do with living our dreams; creating what must be created to continue whatever our hearts feel of doing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We must never stop dreaming. Dreams provide nourishment  for the soul,just as a meal does for the body. Many times in our lives we see our dreams shattered and our desires frustrated, but we have to continue dreaming...what's important is knowing that both sides were fighting the good fight."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The good fight is the one we fight because our heart asks it of us...Today, though, the world has changed a lot, and the good fight has shifted from the battlefields to the fields within ourselves."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The good fight is the one that's fought in the name of our dreams. When we're young and our dreams first explode we haven't yet learned how to fight. With great effort, we learn how to fight, but by then we no longer have the courage to go into combat. So we turn against ourselves and do battle within...we kill our dreams because we are afraid to fight the good fight."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After reading these, I began asking if I did fight the good fight? Am I really living my dream? Honestly, I felt that I did go into battle not against another person but within. There were times before when I felt I cannot develop something out a very frustrating situation or let's say I have sort of given up. But things have changed and made me see the value of living for your self...your dreams...your seemingly dead wants. I began to realize that whatever it is that my heart really desires,  a way would reveal itself. That any time lost isn't a waste...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If living the good fight means huge waves of trials then so be it,&lt;br /&gt;If living the good fight means digging the past and resolving with it, then I am prepared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If living the good fight means facing your biggest fears, then I will be proud to contend with it, giving all I have for my dreams sake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are heading on different roads...pursuing our own destinies. Declarations of hope are like declarations of inner voices, always seeking to be heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have ambitions, needs and aspirations either for ourselves or for others. Just remember, that wherever life takes you...your heart will be your saving grace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-1716228439473326355?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/1716228439473326355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=1716228439473326355&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/1716228439473326355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/1716228439473326355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/11/good-fight.html' title='A Good Fight'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-4859507098876449476</id><published>2008-11-01T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T17:08:54.325-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts in Random</title><content type='html'>The following are words, more or less ideas pertaining to my old and new way of thinking. Since then, I have formed this habit of taking down notes, as if I squeeze details out my head, and as expected, I often see them as random thoughts appearing constantly like woes and tales of fears and dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There &lt;/span&gt;are ways to enrich oneself...nurture your gifts. All you have to do is acknowledge, seek them out and earn your way through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Patience&lt;/span&gt; is hard work's kin. They go together so well that beautiful and inspiring things surround them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Life&lt;/span&gt; is a drawer with us serving its keys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Finding&lt;/span&gt; the rightest thing could lead us to roads less traveled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Earn&lt;/span&gt; for yourself the kindness of strangers and there you'll see more friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt; as if you run out of time and each act will last forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how they come about and speak to me like murmurs in the wind.  To me, they are expressions of my inner conscience; adaptations of cryptic knowledge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever message they convey, I do hope each comes as a lovely present that will bring me happiness and enlightenment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-4859507098876449476?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/4859507098876449476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=4859507098876449476&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/4859507098876449476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/4859507098876449476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/11/thoughts-in-random.html' title='Thoughts in Random'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-8921384891189707159</id><published>2008-10-31T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T14:40:07.269-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Act of Forgiveness</title><content type='html'>Today, I have realized the value of forgiving...shedding that old skin of despair and letting oneself shine beyond defeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was severely hurt by people who I trusted and often did I question why.&lt;br /&gt;I was being battered emotionally by the ones who acted as friends yet reveal themselves as enemies.&lt;br /&gt;Each letdown was painful and memorable...like a wound that never heals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my Grand father's death, I vowed to live the life I wanted.&lt;br /&gt;I started to write and pursued it as a career and I did.&lt;br /&gt;I opened new doors for other people and did they enter.&lt;br /&gt;I, again became a feeling human after seven years of secluding my pains and in more ways was I've been blessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have made a picture of myself achieving things which I foremost just dreamed.&lt;br /&gt;I have renewed ties and re built forgotten relationships.&lt;br /&gt;In less than a year, I felt that I was truly living and my Grandfather's demise proved to be a new beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit that I blamed myself for a lot of things, for reasons either personally inflicted or provoked by someone else.&lt;br /&gt;I have lived and became quite fearless and in so doing, I commanded respect but gained a number of mistakes...ones which I will never be proud of so to speak.&lt;br /&gt;Still, I opted to do the inevitable and change...for I want and have to.&lt;br /&gt;A leap of faith became my greatest agony and for that I have began to feel that my acts are unforgivable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The act of forgiving is tough as much as it is hard to forget.&lt;br /&gt;It's ironic that at a time when I thought I have flown and defied boundaries, there would be times when I need to seek and learn to forgive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgiveness for things I have done wrong.&lt;br /&gt;Forgiveness for time wasted.&lt;br /&gt;Forgiveness for not being true and real...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandfather died and I never had the chance to speak with him...&lt;br /&gt;A year had passed and I am sort of grieving...&lt;br /&gt;But I knew that the last thing he wants is for me to carry the burden and be incapable of forgiving...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is why I need to do so and begin with myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From here on, My Grandfather's life would be celebrated....&lt;br /&gt;His memories will never fade...&lt;br /&gt;I thank him for giving me reasons to re think my life and act on them with faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Lolo,&lt;br /&gt;Your life would be our vision...something that will guide us in knowing what has to be dealt with.&lt;br /&gt;That we may find the need to spend days with loved ones, friends and family.&lt;br /&gt;Yours was a life that is felt and shared.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-8921384891189707159?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/8921384891189707159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=8921384891189707159&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/8921384891189707159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/8921384891189707159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/10/act-of-forgiveness.html' title='The Act of Forgiveness'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-6428270208495941478</id><published>2008-10-15T11:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T11:32:16.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Move forward and never look back</title><content type='html'>The very first step in moving on is the ability to take steps backward. It is more of knowing and understanding what happened and not focusing on what merely went wrong. It is like taking in the loss and understanding what you have gained in the experience...what lessons it taught you and what future days will bring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is never easy. In fact, it is always difficult and hard to take. But remember- the harder the steps, the greater the reward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We should not be tied up with past problems as it will consume you...break you. Thinking of problems and heart aches over and over will make you feel weak and ill. You will feel lonely and depressed; you will eventually give up and lose everything you worked hard for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In making these steps, remind yourself of good things and blessings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reward yourself with minor achievements. Successful people revel on goals fulfilled and jobs greatly finished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gratitude is essential in seeing beneath life's treasure chest. God is great for he remembers and never forgets. He showers us with love and not just second chances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prioritize and never compromise loved ones and family. Be thankful for them. Surround them with affection and support their needs in ways you can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Start your day with a prayer and end it with affirmation. Compassion is evident in words of heart and inner self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on does not only refer to a broken heart or unfulfilled promises. It has something to do with living and continually seeing life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on is like sailing the ocean amidst angry waves; a journey which will make you stronger and happier.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-6428270208495941478?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6428270208495941478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=6428270208495941478&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6428270208495941478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6428270208495941478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/10/move-forward-and-never-look-back.html' title='Move forward and never look back'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-4135618049222401734</id><published>2008-10-12T02:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T03:11:34.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Of lost trust and daunted faith</title><content type='html'>For me, faith is something that one can't live without. Be it religion, an unknown source or fragmented imagination, it is always crucial to hold on to something that could make you stronger and move on. That to me, is the essence of faith...of hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past, I tend to believe people right away. Bearing in mind, that each person has within him this certain kind of truthfulness that will make you trust him. A stranger's ways could lead to friendships and stable relationships, lasting the test of time and struggles. I am very lucky for I have known people who can be trusted and believed in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the course of one's life, we are either destroyed or damaged by irreversible consequences brought by distrust and betrayal. And often, we find it quite hard to get back to where it all started. A friendship whose value remains in years can be tainted by issues relative to money or petty fights; others could have been due to arguments leading to eventual pain and severity of words said; some of which had lasted bearing in one's heart the arguments and misunderstandings. There is always the pride that keeps us from being humble and make us believe again, that something can be relived and tried the second time. But can you actually blame yourself for not giving these friendships a second chance?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of us has different takes on this one. Some may argue how important life is to be wasted away just like that; how life is too short just to ignore people who want to be a part of your life. As for me, sure life is short, life is valuable so is time, yet it does not mean you have to re consider everything and definitely everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The extent of the hurt, the act of grievance and thought of resentment must be totally banished from your system first. For every friendship lost, comes stages towards healing and relief. It does take time and normally, no one can always put the blame nor pinpoint the accusation to somebody else. You have a part in your own healing and you need to recognize the worth of chances given.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am different and has a fragmented take on this...so are everyone. I can never just pretend to go along and act as if I'm healed for I am not probably. A friendship taken by life's oddity can be taken back at a moment when you feel you can rebuild trust again. It could be my act of grievance, my thought of resentment but as I've said- it takes time. Life is too short indeed to be wasted on someone who can never do you any good. Nevertheless, life is too valuable to spend each moment re living a friendship that was not meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be true always. It will help you think not of betrayal but of faith. Believing in the rightest  things can spell a whole lot difference in how you see yourself. In the process, you will be kinder and genuine to friends and family. Value time and hope for the best.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-4135618049222401734?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/4135618049222401734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=4135618049222401734&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/4135618049222401734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/4135618049222401734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/10/of-lost-trust-and-daunted-faith.html' title='Of lost trust and daunted faith'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-6056760145242436938</id><published>2008-10-04T07:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T07:35:09.487-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blind No More</title><content type='html'>About a week ago, I came across an email which literally took my interest and put my convictions to a halt. It has something to do with a short film, featuring a blind man begging on the streets. In it, many people stared, a couple dropped coins into the man's tin can while others never even stop to look or pay attention whatsoever. It was pretty much a scene that for others if not for some is quite ordinary. But then as the short film keeps on reeling, you would see this man passing by, who stopped for a moment and got hold of the beggar's sign. He took it, write something on it and put it back in place, just beside the old man's. As hours pass, you would notice the  difference, people are starting to pay attention, dropping their change or coins, seemingly giving without holding back. It's amazing! But have you ever thought of asking- what did the man put on the beggar's sign? what stirred the interests and created the change?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With every sound of these coins dropping, the old man knows how full the tin can has become. That probably, he is having his greatest day ever. People for awhile stopped this time not ignoring his presence, taking at least minimal interest towards a beggar who practically stayed and lived on the streets. For sure, it was not the first time some of them had seen him yet now they are there noticing him...giving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the beggar hears and perceives all these, the man who came before dropped by later that day. The blind man, knowing it was him, finally asked, "What did you do with my sign?" Then the man, donning his power suit and clean shoes so replied, "Nothing, I'd written the same thing but with different words." And then he left...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the sign? The beggar initially wrote these,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Have compassion...I am blind."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then the man ended up writing these,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Today is a beautiful day and I can't see it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, nothing can be taken away from someone who realizes things differently. It is true that life is a matter of perspective. You conceive something nice and positive, and the results would follow the same. Think of life as something negative, and you will end up perished and agonizing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man helped the beggar in the most simple yet rational way. He had not just given him a spare of change but a sign that would make him feel seen and appreciated. A very simple story but with a blessed end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy reading!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-6056760145242436938?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6056760145242436938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=6056760145242436938&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6056760145242436938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6056760145242436938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/10/blind-no-more.html' title='Blind No More'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-1757566094409584438</id><published>2008-08-22T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T12:29:36.752-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Re finding ...</title><content type='html'>"A writer conceives out of nothing...he is the ever seasoned painter who never leaves his canvass blank."-jcl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd written these words in my application days ago. It leaves me thinking how words can deny and defy you. Deny you of time as it can be a graceful solace; defy you of reality as writing gives you wordy fantasies.  I thought, if there is one thing that would complete if not begin my journey as a novice writer, it has to be the 'Palanca'. I first heard of it when I was in college, year 1994, and it has been a passion, no, make that an obsession. So far, none of my attempts succeeded but I'm planning to write for it once more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The first time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Second semester, year 1994. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;A friend handed me the application, I wrote my piece,have it read by an English professor and I was told, "It wasn't good enough, better concentrate on speech."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;The second time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;April, year 2004.&lt;/span&gt; I was on my fourth year as a housewife, I went to Makati and have my application personally made, I wrote a half-finished piece, and dropped out before the race even began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;The third time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;January, year 2007&lt;/span&gt;. I downloaded the forms, wrote a complete piece entitled 'Broken Fences', I have it read by friends, have the copies ,all three of them sent by courier, I waited and lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;After a number of attempts, I decided not to join this year. All because, I have nothing worthy to write about. I have been waiting for the right piece...the seemingly perfect fragment of my creative self, as it whips into the air not mere letters but vivid words. Something that would keep me awake each time I scribbled lines of prose and poetry. A part which keeps myself hidden...and through which I can see all my senses justified and revealed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that would mean waiting for a number of years, then so be it. As long as I have in me the guts...no failure can ever stop me from doing what I feel gives me so much life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-1757566094409584438?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/1757566094409584438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=1757566094409584438&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/1757566094409584438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/1757566094409584438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/08/re-finding.html' title='Re finding ...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-6631016345321817908</id><published>2008-08-16T03:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T03:55:44.194-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A tenacious bite.</title><content type='html'>After almost a month, I am here again, reiterating the fact that my work is my greatest passion. For years, I have been struggling to see its benefits and recently, I had a taste of its value. Several projects later, I am now an online essay writer. I've been writing articles and essays for other people, and is being compensated out of it. A good feeling, especially that my passion is slowly becoming my 'bread and butter'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never really thought that writing would serve me this well. I am grateful that of all the skills available to man, I did have a share in it. I will never run out of words expressing the simplest and inconceivable joy I'm having; the presence of blessings that come my way each day and the kind of  life I am living- imperfect, full of flaws and challenges. It takes more than courage, come to think of it, it takes tenacity and determination to say that "life is good....God is great."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good Lord...as always...provides.&lt;br /&gt;Happy Reading ! Ciao!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-6631016345321817908?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6631016345321817908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=6631016345321817908&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6631016345321817908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6631016345321817908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/08/tenacious-bite.html' title='A tenacious bite.'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-2296701527759531920</id><published>2008-07-28T13:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T13:27:56.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Childhood Dreams</title><content type='html'>I remember one time, when I was about eight years old, I have always wanted to grow up fast so that I could start working...be somebody and not just stay as this fragile-looking girl who stays up late and just dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember one time, I told myself that I wanted to be this and that and this again,hehe. So many things I have wanted to achieve as if everything can be done so easily. That is how an eight-year old mind works..full of hope and dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember wanting to become a ballerina, a teacher, a secretary even a stewardess....a writer. I recall wishing to become a figure skater or a gymnast or a child singing wonder. It's like when you're young...you feel as if anything is possible; that life is nothing but a playground. So whimsical, joyful, and immensely beautiful. You see things at its best and lightest moment; you appreciate people as if they can never do you wrong; you aspire as if it's the best way to live and you dream as if there's no tomorrow. MY CHILDHOOD DREAMS ARE LIKE MY GREATEST FANTASIES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23 years later, I found myself simply as someone who holds in her heart these wondrous dreams. I never became a stewardess, gymnast or a ballerina but know what? I feel as if I am still young...full of hope and sharing a life filled with good memories of what I was before. I don't know, maybe life taught me that dreams never stop from becoming true..one could have taken a different path yet still you knew the precious token of aspiring for something new and good if not great. Dreams take shape and become varied along the way, it never fades...it stays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also promised before how I wanted my kids to fulfill the dreams, my dreams. But then I realized I should not think of passing onto them my secret wishes or greatest fantasies. A child becomes a child at a moment when she feels she can do anything, without having someone or anyone telling her what to do or what to become. I wanted my kids to have their own dreams, childhood dreams. I want them to feel how it's like to think and believe that there is one world out there ready to be explored and experienced. I won't make their dreams for them. I won't let my wishes become theirs. I want them to become someone who knows what it takes to live and be free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am doing everything I can to become a writer. I learned business in college and graduated accordingly but dreams are like nightmares you know,hehe. It can haunt you but with a good feel. I still pause whenever I see ballerinas and gymnasts or figure skaters on TV, I still wonder and think of what could have happened if I pursued those instead. But you know what? If I cannot become any of those, it does not mean I can never be someone. I still can. I will. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-2296701527759531920?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/2296701527759531920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=2296701527759531920&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/2296701527759531920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/2296701527759531920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/07/childhood-dreams.html' title='Childhood Dreams'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-9107704264511869894</id><published>2008-07-25T16:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T16:56:12.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bitter truth.</title><content type='html'>There's always the brighter side on things as much as there's the dimmer side. When I hear of people and their love stories, it's either I feel or see myself in them. If a person close to me happens to deal with a heart problem...then seeks my advice, I tend to give  answers I myself found amazing. For in saying or giving those words...I am surprised at how I can come up with those things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Losing oneself (in a relationship) begins when small things go unnoticed. When petty fights and misunderstandings are being ignored simply for convenience. Convenience, in terms of saving each other's time; minding reasons which often mean, "I know your point- so you don't need to say it" kind of thing? Yes, at times, when we want to talk, as in talk, either the other shuts us out or does not really understand but pretends he did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why maybe friends get along better than lovers. It's because in friendship, we make ourselves available; we listen. We open our minds and are willing to give without necessarily taking. When we meet and have known friends...we become ourselves to the point of being brutally honest. We pay attention at the same time, regard each one's welfare. Unlike in a romantic relationship, we seem to give so much...we end up losing both our hearts and heads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Late last night, upon learning of my dear friend's turmoil, I end up saying this-&lt;br /&gt;"If you're with someone(you deeply love) and still you're confused and unhappy, then something is wrong. If being with him/her means not being true to yourself, then you got to end it...it's hard I know but you've got to ask- Is he the one for you? Sometimes, we're afraid to let go of someone because we love them...but if it means experiencing hurt over and over, why stay? If loving that person meant losing your purpose and happiness, would you wait till you lose yourself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is supposedly uplifting...it's there for a reason that's supposedly right.&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-9107704264511869894?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/9107704264511869894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=9107704264511869894&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/9107704264511869894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/9107704264511869894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/07/bitter-truth.html' title='Bitter truth.'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-3771150102207741370</id><published>2008-07-20T23:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T23:27:12.177-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Aid Kit</title><content type='html'>We may not know it, but we often think of partners as immediate medicine kits...waiting to open and cure us with gauze pads. As we bleed either in peril or death( in my case, tantrums,hehe) my husband serves as my ultimate band-aid. He knows when to say the rightest words...he knows when to come up with the most encouraging words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it good to know that everyday, you'll have a pair of lovely hands to comfort you or slow your senses when its about to take a major dive? In my case- when I go on panic mode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it great feeling the warm embrace when all else fail to come? In my case- rejection at work; unfulfilled goals, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's true that each minute is an escape of both time and love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time...when we want to do things for people.&lt;br /&gt;Love...when we want to show and feel affection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first-aid kit came to me at a time when my bleeding keeps on non-stop. My first-aid kit came to give me gauze pads of certainty and love when I feel emptiness, no doubt. My first-aid kit came at a moment when breathing seems too hard, he gave me the pills I needed for confidence and will to survive. And that was eight years ago..My! How time drifts fast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that somewhere, there are those who feel the bleeding. Some having their band-aids with them...while others still hanging on, waiting. The bleeding could be mild and scars proved dense, on the other, bleeding could be worse. However, as we seek to find cure and healing, be it through partners, family or friends, what we should never forget is that we can also be our own band-aid...our selves could very well be our own first-aid kit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lighten up and cheer up! Lots of reasons to feel happy about life. You may have never seen it yet for you somehow avail of thicker bandages in exchange for swollen egos or broken pride. Live and move on! Life is full of things that never run out. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-3771150102207741370?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/3771150102207741370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=3771150102207741370&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/3771150102207741370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/3771150102207741370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/07/first-aid-kit.html' title='First Aid Kit'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-6725358607626971629</id><published>2008-07-02T07:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T07:39:28.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Favorite Movie</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;If there is one movie that could literally move me to tears, it has got to be &lt;i style=""&gt;“A&lt;/i&gt; &lt;i style=""&gt;Walk to Remember”&lt;/i&gt;. For some strange reason, the characters have in them the innate substance of real-life romance; it ceases to become the sappy, youthful love story but instead evolves into something that many people longed to have- a real take for one’s unforgettable love. I am indeed a sentimental, emotional individual but the scenes of said movie often reminded me of two young lovers, enabling themselves towards love’s greatness; valuing merely the time and reasons why two people decide to begin a journey, uncertain in itself.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;There, we have Jamie, always a social outcast; with her intentions primarily defined by others through bible reading and sharing time with the unpopular kind. She never aimed to seek the approval of others, neither trying to put a mask of pretense to get along but preferred to be herself. Often do we find ourselves in her, at one point in our lives, we have become invisible in somebody else’s eyes, trying to be noticeable enough. How many of us had experienced trying to get along but only to find oneself in oblivion, departing from what truly matters to us as a person? Jamie is a living detail of what life often means- acceptance and self-definition.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;Then we have the character of Landon, the typical famous kid in school. He gets along pretty well, did not even struggle but at the height of belongingness sees nothing in terms of direction and future. A free spirit, Landon opts to stay cool in front of friends but was raring to prove something to his father. Some of us could see a part of ourselves in him, too. How we tried to keep up with the face, hiding our innermost thoughts and insecurities.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;It has been a usual movie for some but to me, the movie speaks of a love proved beautiful and inspiring all along. How the characters saw each other; the ways in which time and space brought them together; how they struggled in the middle of social differences and intrusion, these had been elements of a natural story that could have meted and told simply but still emotionally-moving and truthful. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;My liking for romance and love stories is fairly usual, however, seeing it prompted me to read the book, &lt;i style=""&gt;“A Walk to Remember”&lt;/i&gt; by Nicholas Sparks. It has been presented differently and reading between the pages meant another thing for me-a deeper insight as provided by the words, creating features of both past and undying love. Watching the film and reading the book made me see the wonders of falling and really feeling for someone; how it brought you the memories of meeting the very person who will rightfully stay even in passing time. It’s like re telling a story the way a seventeen year old does…feeling the memories as if nothing changed… seeing again the days that will undoubtedly bring you smiles. To those who think of love stories as mere drag, then seeing this is worthlessly dull but to those who think of love as the greatest feeling ever known to man, you may see yourself either crying or relating if not remembering someone. I guess, you have to read or watch it yourself to really understand and for Mandy Moore and Shane West’s fans, the movie would be a delectable visual delight.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-6725358607626971629?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6725358607626971629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=6725358607626971629&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6725358607626971629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6725358607626971629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-favorite-movie.html' title='My Favorite Movie'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-2146676044589831754</id><published>2008-06-29T05:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T06:21:09.632-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Winners and Losers.</title><content type='html'>For days now, my husband is bugging me about finding certain game manuals which he obviously needs. I put it off for awhile for I have things to do and yesterday , he again reminded me of it. I gave in and told that I'll find it today. Around 11 am, after lunch, I was more into watching the Pacquiao-Diaz bout than getting through old stuff and asked him if I can find them some other day. Of course, my husband knows that the only answer I'm willing to take is Yes  so I was free,hehe. But since I am one who do not really delay things bearing its significance and all- I decided to search for the manuals, after all Manny won and it feels great,hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the searching. As I rummaged through piles and stacks of old papers, I came across one flier- a copy of Sydney Harris' "Winners and Losers" compilation of precepts regarding what differentiates the one from the other and I became totally interested. I mean, everything that was written absolutely makes sense- not just one but lots of them and reading made me think...am I a winner or a loser?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To give you guys a preview of what 'winners and losers' is all about, I've decided to impart some of it here, through my blog; I want to feature at least one or two and discuss it a little bit, for in finding my capacity as a winner (or loser), I wanted to associate actual life learnings and tell really if I have been a winner? a loser? or in most part...both?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the first one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A winner &lt;/span&gt;makes commitments;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a loser&lt;/span&gt; makes promises."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Commitment.&lt;/span&gt; It is really a big word. Come to think of it- many find it hard to commit for it means time and effort and total honesty. At certain things in our lives, we want to think we've committed enough; said the right things; wanted the right job; made use of our potential, etc. But the truth is- we barely know if what we've committed ourselves into were really worth-committing after all. That there is really no guarantee that our time, effort or honesty would take us far. What we know is that- we're committing for there is this rational thinking and subconscious feeling that a thing could have brought us all the favor. And we often go for it. We think we've decided rightly and committed either to a person, a career, a relationship, etc. for we felt we should. There's this invisible line we crossed leaving all inhibitions and second thoughts. In a sense, we are winners...for we never got afraid to try and risk. We finally accepted the uncertain and made it a certainty on our own taking. That folks....is commitment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Promises&lt;/span&gt;. Uhhhmmmm...lots of thinking here,hehe. Well, I've made promises like you guys did but admittedly promises are mindfully big but heavily broken. Based on experience, promises are like bad gourmet food, very pleasing to the eyes but leaves a bad taste in one's mouth,hehe. I could go on and ramble about how promises are made and most of the time not kept, however, I think instead of giving promises, it's better to say no. Others may find it difficult or displeasing but it's far good to be frank and brutally honest than made a person feel and think you can be one reliable person. For in the end, you'll be hurting someone else and yourself. In the long run,  your reputation precedes you and if you'll be labeled as the sweet-tongued, flamboyant jerk or poisonous vixen...then getting it off your back means a hell of hard work. I'd rather be perceived as the cold, lonely spinster (not! hehe)  if it's really you...at least you're consistent,haha. Kidding aside,  I mean, say no when you have to...it's one tricky world out there so you gotta gain your ground and be true. It matters really. It is your conviction that will save you from a lot of trouble. You may not know where I'm coming from, believe me. You gotta know when to say yes or no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winning in life doesn't mean we can't afford to fail for at most, we're winning at times when we do. We learn the hard way and each time we find our backs hard-pressed onto the wall...that's when we realize how commitment means winning in failures. &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;It pays to commit and fall than promise and fall a couple of times more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about it. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-2146676044589831754?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/2146676044589831754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=2146676044589831754&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/2146676044589831754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/2146676044589831754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/06/winners-and-losers.html' title='Winners and Losers.'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-2083813226737369679</id><published>2008-06-26T03:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T03:37:07.979-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What I ask in my prayers?</title><content type='html'>As a young girl, I often regard prayers as my passageway to heaven's gate; it is the only key to having a talk with God; a direct line of conversation. I feel that it doesn't really matter whether or not prayers are heard or ignored, for I feel and believe God has his own means of knowing our heart's whispers just even before we utter them. It's a formality of sort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also thought of prayers as my way of conversing with a friend...an imaginary one at that. Every time I feel scared or lost, I pray. Each day, when I have within untold wishes even secret keepings, I pray. My life is synonymous with prayers like one silver lining. It is my well of hope...my well of dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my early teens up till  my  late twenty's , I seem to pray for survival. My challenges then were insurmountable that my premier haven would be the church  (in Baclaran). Whenever I feel weak and depressed; happy and blessed, I pray and render my heartfelt thanks. To me, my prayers relieve me of unpleasantness, thus, giving me the faith that whatever I am facing has it's meted end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays,  I pray not for my needs but for my husband, family and friends. I pray for their good health and fortune. I pray for their blessings and personal retribution. Anyone who had graced my life, affected me big or small, I pray for them...yes, even former friends, I still do. It was never an act of hypocrisy whatsoever for everyone must be blessed no matter what. I never wanted anyone to feel he has little or less in life. And if my prayers, even for the tiniest bit it could provide, I hope it would help. I will gladly pray for them as I feel for them too and are still important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Prayers are powerful in a sense that it provides hope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It gives us this feeling of belongingness...realizing that you are never alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-2083813226737369679?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/2083813226737369679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=2083813226737369679&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/2083813226737369679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/2083813226737369679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-i-ask-in-my-prayers.html' title='What I ask in my prayers?'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-670409605951933683</id><published>2008-06-24T04:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T05:12:40.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Calculated Risk.</title><content type='html'>Is there such a thing as calculated risk? For someone who is a pessimist and a non-risk taker, there isn't. But for someone who believes in taking steps with caution, there is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the former and my husband is the latter (to a certain degree, I must say). We never really argued over it for we both believe in one thing- change. We know that in our eight year together, we are facing issues known to ourselves which need much resolving. We want to discuss how these changes can take effect and affect our lives long-term.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night...Mark and I... we're again having difficulty sleeping. All because we are somewhat thinking of taking steps towards a major change. I can't really point out details for they were personal, however, what matters is that &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;we are talking, talking and talking&lt;/span&gt;. And last but definitely not the least, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;we are listening.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bottom line? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We are thinking of each one's welfare and happiness.&lt;/span&gt; That such cannot be gained alone; that in us talking things over means open-mindedness and resolution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I want him to be happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He wants me to be happy,too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I want him to succeed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And he wants me to achieve something for myself,too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as we know we have each other...with or without affluence...&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a risk is one we're willing to take to calculate not the numbers but the years we would experience together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-670409605951933683?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/670409605951933683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=670409605951933683&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/670409605951933683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/670409605951933683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/06/calculated-risk.html' title='Calculated Risk.'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-905902853470163731</id><published>2008-06-19T11:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T12:48:04.224-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time well-spent .</title><content type='html'>"Time is too slow, for those who wait,&lt;br /&gt; Too swift, for those who fear,&lt;br /&gt; Too long, for those who grieve,&lt;br /&gt; Too short, for those who rejoice...&lt;br /&gt; But for those who LOVE...Time is eternity."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever wondered how you spend your time each day? Have you ever asked yourself how come time leaves us easily at moments when we want people and events to stay? It seems that time is neither a friend nor foe...for those who want it in their own terms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's no puzzle to those who knew me how I'd been as a stay-at-home wife for years. Many have expressed their surprise learning how  I decided to remain at home, not working considering how competitive I was in school back then. Some have even commented that they never really expected me to be just at home and not pursuing a career. And most of the time, I am wondering did I really make the rightest decision for myself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say it filled a cup if not a pitcher of bluish pressure. I started to question myself and my decisions. I even wanted to take a job just for the sake of having one unknowingly pressuring myself even more. I'm not putting a blame onto someone else's back but hearing comments make me somewhat vulnerable and for a time I have to discern my life in general in the most realistic and practical way possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took a toll on me one time and I was more indecisive than before. My husband felt it too and he comforted me in ways he could ever knew. He often gives me assurance saying that he appreciates the littlest thing I do on his behalf; that his life would be a mess if I won't be there managing things around; that I am doing so many people a favor by sharing a part of me each day, extending my help to them unselfishly, that his life would not be that easy and wonderful if not for the little things I do for him. That part caught me, how sweet of him really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that was a year ago...when I realized my passion once more, I began to feel life breathing upon me. All this time, I am seeking for something that others imposed on me rather than finding something that would really inspire me. In my previous posts, I am elated each time I reveal my writing; the ways of I discovered this gift as well as relating experiences coupled with both anxiety and excitement. It was a process towards re discovery and affirmation. It was a moment of bringing the very inspiration I seek all along. It felt as if I'm a whole new person!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If not for my indecision, I would have never really wanted change. I could have faltered thinking I made time useless but in so doing, I knew of my other blessings. I should have never regarded time and thought of it as one expense. My life...our life is worth each minute or second. Whatever gives you joy or peace, be content with it. No matter how big or small...it pays to see beyond faces and places or ordinary things. For life is time well-spent with all the love taking its place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recall waiting for that moment and time graces so slow,&lt;br /&gt;I remember being afraid of uselessness and time bent too low,&lt;br /&gt;I made tears known and it flowed too long,&lt;br /&gt;Love waved at me and made me strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Reading!!!&lt;br /&gt;Ciao!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-905902853470163731?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/905902853470163731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=905902853470163731&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/905902853470163731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/905902853470163731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/06/time-well-spent.html' title='Time well-spent .'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-6738312305787500767</id><published>2008-06-17T00:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T00:52:55.234-07:00</updated><title type='text'>love thoughts...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"The most interesting thing about heart transplants is that one completely loses his own heart and be replaced with someone else's yet still has the feelings for the same person he/she loves...this proves that love works in the minds of people and not in their hearts. Bottom line is that love is a state of mind...you'll learn how to forget only if you try doing so."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Dr. Burke (Grey's Anatomy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;When a person loves, it's as if nothing ends. When a person falls deeply, he thinks of love as one fairy tale which ends so beautifully. The thing is we love and need to face the truth of rejection, anger and pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read the words and you'll find it easy somehow to accept that moving on is personal too...just like love is. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-6738312305787500767?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6738312305787500767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=6738312305787500767&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6738312305787500767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6738312305787500767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/06/love-thoughts.html' title='love thoughts...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-6186684497198859677</id><published>2008-06-17T00:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T00:38:18.682-07:00</updated><title type='text'>updated.</title><content type='html'>I have just updated my 'mybloglog' at yahoo. &lt;a href="http://www.mybloglog.com/buzz/community/jrealm/" rel="09a779286ed916c87e53e169d4e4c6026882bf42"&gt;Undergoing MyBlogLog Verification&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-6186684497198859677?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6186684497198859677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=6186684497198859677&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6186684497198859677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6186684497198859677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/06/updated.html' title='updated.'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-2708388249285333823</id><published>2008-06-14T05:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T05:59:05.994-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Opposites do attract...</title><content type='html'>This coming August, my husband and I will be celebrating our 8th year anniversary. We have been together for almost 11 years and after some grueling petty fights and enormous differences...we have survived gladly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have common friends. We also have a set of different friends, exclusive to each one's circle. We have managed to talk things out and sometimes fight it out like there's no tomorrow. Still, when things get ugly...either one gives in or settle for adjustments more so compromises. That's the thing about relationships, you need to believe in it even though outside forces deny you of it. You need to work things out even if you feel no hope exists for the truth is- there is. Always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Opposites do attract. I attest to that like a priest in one glorious wedding. Mark is very optimistic and practical and I'm the opposite. I am sentimental and he is always cool and reserved. I am very organized with things while he acts like a slob (oooops...I love you!!!!). I'm interested in literature and he's into business; I'm the writer and he's the reader, of car magazines,etc. We never really shared an interest except for food and movies. We love hanging out together and chat before going to bed. And honestly, that's what I love about him,too. He is not just my husband for he is also my friend. We started out as friends and we are still...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each time I'm asked by college friends, how come I chose him? I always say to them it' s because Mark is the only who can handle all of me. At times, when I feel that I'm losing control or in deepest pain, he is there unexpectedly. He knows when to give me a piece of his mind and heart to calm me down or lessen my burden. He gives me space and more importantly...he knows when to give up the oars and leave all else to me when I asked him to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a process, believe me. Seven years of seclusion is no joke and neither are repressed feelings. If there is one thing that I learned this year was to finally tell my heart out and make him understand what is it I want and how I want it. Mark became protective of me and I thought he's pulling me down... but eventually I found out that everything he has done is for my own good. And from that moment on...I am thankful for he is the one I wed and chose for a husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I hear couples saying- a partner in life is a lifetime friend, it's absolutely true. In the beginning, your love is overwhelmed by youthful passion and intensity that being together seems like eternity. However, when both of you matures in time and everything else around you changes, your husband or wife for that matter should not just be a partner but a friend. You got to have someone who can be with you and accept you when no one else can. You got to see his world and make him see yours. You have to tell him your limits and make him set his. It does not mean owning his mistakes or allowing them...it's making him learn the mistakes the way you learn yours. It's communicating beyond yourself and seeing your loved-one as a part of yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a brief period...I forgot it all and got confused. But at the end of the day...when I  thought I'm alone...there is Mark...keeping his presence still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Mark and I were like the twin resolute desks from the national treasure movie, he could be in Europe and me in Washington. There could be puzzles and parts unknown or clues disfigured.... but there is no twin that leaves the other for good...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-2708388249285333823?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/2708388249285333823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=2708388249285333823&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/2708388249285333823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/2708388249285333823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/06/opposites-do-attract.html' title='Opposites do attract...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-4604378135065163855</id><published>2008-06-12T05:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T06:31:29.352-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Curiosity kills the cat...</title><content type='html'>I am one impulsive person.  I react in an instant...cannot really contain my emotions to the point of facing adversity head on. I have no qualms when it comes to expressing what I really feel or else I'll be like one sleepy giant volcano, building up steam just to hurl it against who and whatever. Yes, I know that I have to practice a little self-control but....it's hard. Again, if this petite body turns into some cuddly pet with cute almond eyes and whiskers in it...I am certainly one dead cat. And mind you- it's not just about curiosity but the impatience, mood swings, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I am not that bad,hehe. I couldn't hold my temper at times yet I definitely know when to stop. I could be very forgiving too. But timing holds the key to that inner fortress of silence and cold treatment( ask my husband, he knows for sure,haha).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of this writing, I'm in sort of a dilemma. The last project I had was due last Saturday and after that...I'm itching to write again. I cannot bear the thought of letting this week pass without substantial work that I decided to hover across sites and references to find simply anything. This is a dimmer truth behind my so-called job- for all you know, you find yourself jobless in a week or so. Oh, My! Do I need to say bye-bye to those lovely pair of Ked's I'd seen two weeks ago? Tsk...tsk...tsk...what a waste.Thanks to my husband...he understands.(a million kisses to you,hehe).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, this piece is entitled- 'curiosity kills the cat' because I feel that lately, I have been either too mindful if not mindfully careless when it comes to my action and reactions and reactions again,hehe. It's like when I needed something done, I'm always in a hurry that's why I overlook some details and need to go back after doing some re-tracing( which means lots of work,too). In  the end, I am filled with anxiety or worry for instead of doing what should be done, I end up doing what I think must be done, according to my preferences and all. The forgotten details will later pile up till they become noticeable. And to think...I...being overly cautious and meticulous towards work cannot apply it rigorously to practicality and that's where real hurt begins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, my agenda...to practice patience a little bit more; make my work ethic translate the same thing towards my 'real' life and end up not being too curious or impatient...both for things known and unknown. Which means, a deduction from a number of poor cat souls whose bodies sprawled lifeless on street floors.  Am I being too graphic now? Sorry, no harm meant at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Reading!!! ( can't believe I typed that,hehe)&lt;br /&gt;Ciao!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-4604378135065163855?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/4604378135065163855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=4604378135065163855&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/4604378135065163855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/4604378135065163855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/06/curiosity-kills-cat.html' title='Curiosity kills the cat...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-734001682795824897</id><published>2008-06-07T22:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T23:23:01.842-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome back, Nina!!!</title><content type='html'>Remember when I said how I'd been with friends for so long? How I try to keep the friendship through the years? Well, let me introduce you to one of them, a very good friend when I was still in grade school and would like to think we are still now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I relate stories of my childhood, I cannot help but think of my good old elementary days. Honestly, I had fun in school. There, I met  so many wonderful people and it relieves me to think that time has not changed them, most of them still remain as honest, sincere and fun-loving. You can obviously take away the innocence but some of the childish bruhaha somehow stays, when we're together,hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me take you to one of the memories I have about this friend...&lt;br /&gt;We became close only time knows when, and taken part in various contests when we're still studying. Crescinia or Nina to her friends, was one of the most hardworking students I know and excels in class always. We both are competitors that time but what makes our friendship seemingly perfect was the fact that we can get rid of our game on faces and be like children when we're supposed to. I also remember how we visit each other's homes after school or weekends, we play the infamous Chinese garter or jump rope, also hopscotch and hide and seek. Name it and certainly we played it,hehe. One of the things Nina did for me that I can't forget was when I got sick one time. I recall needing a copy of prayer/verses and she did give me one, patiently handwritten and delivered on time. I must say, that us being close, made us see each other behind all the books and tedious assignments or competitions. What's great is that- we never really regard each other as antagonists or mere counterparts. We are friends, that's all. No matters remain unsaid or bad secrets kept. Back then,we look for each ones' strengths and support each one's weaknesses like best friends do. Of course, we have other buddies outside 'our circle',that due to the truth that Nina is really a good soul. There's no mean bone in her body, I can say that with all sincerity. The more reason why I feel blessed to have known her not later but sooner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first hand out a message to her online, I was glad for she remembers our good old days. We exchanged ideas, shared personal things and made revelations along the way. Now, she is back and I am so happy. At a time we lost touch and had no idea of each other's whereabouts, one could easily say it's one friendship down the drain. But as others used to say- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;There are no things lost that can't be found again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome back!!! nice to have you here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-734001682795824897?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/734001682795824897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=734001682795824897&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/734001682795824897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/734001682795824897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/06/welcome-back-nina.html' title='Welcome back, Nina!!!'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-9044963184091093006</id><published>2008-06-06T11:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T12:26:05.794-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspired...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"A person should get to have a whole life."&lt;/span&gt;- from Allison of Private Practice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing I love about foreign TV shows is that they can show you powerful emotions without creating too much drama; a scene can move you to tears without necessarily overdoing everything and the bottom line is...you get to see...appreciate...learn aspects in life thus making you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who never really know 'Private Practice"- it's about a story of a medical practitioner who decided to start anew in a place without life constantly whispering her past. It is actually a take off from another TV show, Grey's Anatomy but instead focuses more on Allison( the ex of Meredith Grey's Mc dreamy,hehe). Well, so much for that I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, let's go to the serious but enlightening part, of what my post is really about.&lt;br /&gt;A person should get to have a whole life...what does this mean? The line stayed in my mind really simply because I also believe in making the most of what you have, in making things happen, in taking risks and grabbing chances if not chasing dreams. I was a firm believer of said things not till I decided to leave all else behind due to fear of what could have been. A mistake...I must say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each of us has a life to live. We are presented with options and given opportunities. At some point, we struggle to define what's out there for us. What do we really want in life? And setting priorities highly become hindrances or bumps in fulfilling our purpose in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I'm trying to say is this- we have a life that's meant to be lived. A person must be able to see himself growing and stepping out of his shell to make things really happen. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It's not about&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;perfection or not committing mistakes. In fact, it's about learning how to make mistakes&lt;/span&gt;. Do not think of standards or the whys or hows, think of your life as a stone waiting to be turned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me give you an example...if someone asks you, "what will you do if you only have 24 hours to live? Answers would come in different forms, sizes and shapes, of course. Some would say they'll take the nearest flight and go some place else, others would claim spending valuable minutes with those who matter to them the most, while some would just continue with what they're doing and treat it no differently, just like any other day.  Those are answers from people who prioritize base on what they feel suits their life best. It's not about pleasing others or delaying the grudge but being yourself. You can get to have a whole life if you know where you stand now and how will you move from there. You can get to live life if you think less of ideals and think more of realities. Of course, life is a launching pad of anything, everything and you can expect all things possible to happen. But as always, do not be afraid to swim even though you can't for in life, mistakes can serve as your biggest blessings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope that I made you think,hehe.&lt;br /&gt;Happy Reading!!!&lt;br /&gt;Ciao :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-9044963184091093006?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/9044963184091093006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=9044963184091093006&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/9044963184091093006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/9044963184091093006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/06/inspired.html' title='Inspired...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-8747934126021857551</id><published>2008-06-01T05:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T05:52:05.491-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How Do I Treat My Writing Projects</title><content type='html'>Hello! I know, It's been awhile...as in. I have not been able to update my personal blog for I have been working on several assignments now, no time left to do it. But I'm very glad for I don't have to think of  procrastination or doing unnecessary stuff to keep me busy. I have plenty on my plate to deal with and I'm practically happy :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let's go back now to my writing...well, It's a passion, an undying interest that I know will haunt me for the rest of my days (do I sound too spooky,hehe). What I meant was, I abandoned it for some period in my past and every now and then, it seems so strange thinking how a voice keeps on telling me that writing will do me good and I will never go wrong with it (despite the criticisms, rejections, etc.) I guess, each of us knows what we're born to do, sort of, it's just a matter of giving in to it in the process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I'm excited to inform you, family and friends, included that I finally realized how my writing serves me well, if not serves me best. I landed this project, my first that actually pays good money, and along the way I've experienced how hard yet satisfying my writing could be. The thing about freelancing is- you never knew how many projects would come your way; what kind of clients you're gonna deal with even the frustrations behind getting payments. What initiated me to pursue this, I must say, isn't financial at all. Believe me- I may be the kind who splurge on certain things like shoes or clothes (who doesn't? I'm a girl for God's sake,hehe) but when it comes to writing, I could be a little naive, dumb, easily-taken advantage of...in other words- I am willing to take the downside, embrace it wholeheartedly just for the sake of my first love. To me, as long as I can write, can share a bit of myself in whatever form be it through the profiles, essays,etc. I am totally happy. Yeah, you could comment that being kinda shallow but I don't care at all. That's truth of being me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, how do I treat my projects? Simply, I treat them as my own. Even though, there were some which leave you with no bylines at all, I still treat them special. I never settle for less. I wanted each written piece to have a personality in itself. A part of it must give me the gratifying smile after I re read it or there should lines/sentences in it which I would die of reading over and over- meaning...words which define myself as a writer, a patent through words, that's what I call it.&lt;br /&gt;This may leave some of you wondering- what the heck is she thinking? Is she for real? I maybe wrong but I decided to say these since a close friend once said, "My God, Jinks! you're one of a kind, me amats ka minsan(in english? I could be on the verge of being sane or insane for I treat my projects like true-blooded children). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To justify it, it's no different with guys who value their toys/cars; girls who drool over expensive shoes/bags; a child craving for chicken or pizza; or moms wanting dads to come up with a surprise. Simply,it's finding your greatest joy in things you know you can do; knowing by heart that even if someone else's deems better, you take pride in believing that you and your work is something you created with forbearance and virtue. It's your work of art...your valued possession. But in it also comes the faith that whatever you delivered best is a feat bigger than yourself, for your gift comes from a higher power who appreciates you returning the glory. It's something I dare not to forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Do your best in everything you do...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;For yourself, others and God's too...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;For life is about exploring and searching, it's about letting your real self shine through.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Reading! till next time!&lt;br /&gt;Ciao!!! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-8747934126021857551?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/8747934126021857551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=8747934126021857551&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/8747934126021857551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/8747934126021857551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/06/how-do-i-treat-my-writing-projects.html' title='How Do I Treat My Writing Projects'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-5699694584487916742</id><published>2008-05-10T06:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T07:49:36.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Permissive Will.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Permissive Will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* doing things even if it's not yet time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* doing them thinking it's God and Life's way of showing everything to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* but the truth is_ we're making it...doing it on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"our time".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday evening till wee hours in the morning, I had a friendly chat, I must say a good one with a sister. We are traversing the road of perception and self- determination when the thing about permissive will came up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to my friend, a mate of hers told her about it. That sometimes people tend to do things, make it feel as if fate brought it upon themselves to relish...where in fact, they're nothing but self- inflicted injuries in the making. Ouch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, folks. I know, the truth hurts. It's nothing but denial plastered all over like a bad, tainted kind of freakish-looking wall paper,hehe. Yup, that's the main thing really. Ouch again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me give you an example:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E.g. Let's say....you're sleeping in a room with only one window. You have managed to keep it close for months knowing that this bratty little sis of yours normally has the habit of pretending she's one superhero trying to climb anything unstable,hazardous etc. Beyond the window  stood a lovely apple tree, already bearing these red,plump, appetite inducing produce which your sister does not only love but crave for. You told her it's better to wait for Dad picking some come Sunday than try to get it by herself...she pretends to have listened and walked out on you one day. So, you thought all else's settled but wait...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday came. And the brat anxiously waited...she knew daddy will still get some but she can't pull herself together much longer...she decided to go for it and climb. As daddy turned his back, the sister run her way to your room, opened the window and tried to reach for the branch nearby. Guess what happened next? There goes she...bearing a number of ugly bruises plus a broken rib. Were the apples worth the risk? NO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Permissive Will teaches us to respect time for its being and events for their happening.&lt;br /&gt;We badly want things...people...events to happen.&lt;br /&gt;We believe it's meant to be there for us to climb, reach or get.&lt;br /&gt;We take the risk of seeing what our eyes only want to see...denying that somewhere lurks danger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are principles, I know and I believe in them too.&lt;br /&gt;There are people and things worth fighting for...that's also true.&lt;br /&gt;But if these things are voicing out a tinge of gray when it's supposed to be white...go and ask yourselves? Do you really feel...as in really that God's giving it to you? Can you honestly say that whatever risk your taking isn't a fruit of one's defiance to fulfill selfishness?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For God even life brings you whatever it is that is necessary. You are rewarded with blessings regardless of how such we're brought into your life. You need not force them to happen...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unless you wanted a couple of nasty-looking bruises, too? A broken rib perhaps?&lt;br /&gt;I don't think so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-5699694584487916742?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/5699694584487916742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=5699694584487916742&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/5699694584487916742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/5699694584487916742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/05/permissive-will.html' title='Permissive Will.'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-9108114236546948047</id><published>2008-05-08T23:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T23:50:16.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what if...</title><content type='html'>"What if someone you know turns out to be someone you knew"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it'll be too sad...&lt;br /&gt;But again, life is unpredictably sound and anything can happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But how do we get to know them again?&lt;br /&gt;How do we get ourselves from re finding someone who turned his back on us at one point?&lt;br /&gt;Are second chances worth- giving?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know really. Maybe...&lt;br /&gt;Our feelings often lead us to thinking that chances must be given to anyone. For at the back of our feeble minds, we're thinking why not? We can still go on living even if we thought giving chances isn't worth the dime? There'll always be hanging questions prompting us to give answers to, even if it means hurt or even lies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's true that people around us play a significant part. If you're eccentric, some covert-loving individual, you can maybe go on alone. But if you are the ever unpredictable guy/gal, some people-loving, accepting, benign person, then you are ready for the worst type of beating ever- giving chances which could mean disappointment and moving on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess, there is nothing wrong about giving chances.&lt;br /&gt;Even if the person you had given it to doesn't necessarily return a good favor.&lt;br /&gt;For what if such person really needs the chance?&lt;br /&gt;What if the chance he/she's asking means a start he badly wants?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Reading!!!&lt;br /&gt;Ciao!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-9108114236546948047?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/9108114236546948047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=9108114236546948047&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/9108114236546948047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/9108114236546948047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-if.html' title='what if...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-6375728880574426504</id><published>2008-05-07T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T10:22:04.121-07:00</updated><title type='text'>this is one of those days....</title><content type='html'>Last night, I was feeling so much better...but now, it seems that I've taken the plunge a bit too early. This passes as one of those days wherein you can't exactly pinpoint sadness and its source. It's like I'm too lazy to do anything; wanted to rest but my mind keeps on battling against it. Aaaaaah! I don't know what's wrong with me!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again...here I am always struggling to survive whatever thing that bothers me this much. As far as I remember, every thing is fine except a couple of loopholes,here and there, but who doesn't have any?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a fateful meeting with someone who brings either bliss or pain. Yeah...that's right, some person who stirred in me both happiness and disgust. Who made me feel the extremes, nothing in between.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was done with the thinking but showing up just like that? Got to say, I was never prepared.&lt;br /&gt;But then again...I know that after this, I'll be fine.&lt;br /&gt;I'm too fly to be depressed ( remember Ne-yo,hehe).&lt;br /&gt;I just hated this feeling for I'm supposed to be stronger now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;these I guess...is part of a higher plan...a test of endurance.&lt;br /&gt;With me either giving in or not.&lt;br /&gt;I will not. Never will I give in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-6375728880574426504?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6375728880574426504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=6375728880574426504&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6375728880574426504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6375728880574426504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/05/this-is-one-of-those-days.html' title='this is one of those days....'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-6978044045990190793</id><published>2008-05-06T11:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T11:44:46.162-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In seeing old friends...</title><content type='html'>Last May 3, I went out swimming with grade school friends. It's a get together, hoping many would come but a raring number showed up,hehe. The eager ones, I must say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's nice talking of those days, our teachers, how we were with each other. It's a good feeling knowing that a part of us remains young and upbeat, that years did not take away the genuineness of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We grew and become us...today. Some had gone having families and rearing children. Some had stayed single but happy. None of which changed the fact that hanging out with each other makes us all glad. For a few hours from night till 4 am...we felt how memories stay no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there is a particular reason which made me even happier was seeing my good friend...Jocelyn.&lt;br /&gt;Back then, we were like a trio- I, Jocelyn and Ann Cheryl. We do things together. Eat lunch and plan things together. We're like the Yayas' and the Sisters. We're somewhat inseparable and up to now, Jocelyn remembers, how cool is that? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She showed me a picture of her daughter. And meeting her husband, seeing how they are towards each other...I see that she is clearly happy and blessed. She works as a teacher and honestly, I never imagined her being one...ooops! Sorry :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that being said...we plan for another outing next year. We think of doing something every year, for that matter. And I will always look forward seeing them all again and again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Friends to me...they're not just anybody. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;They're always somebody. They make you see what you are...how you'd been as days went by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Reading!!!&lt;br /&gt;Ciao!!! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-6978044045990190793?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6978044045990190793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=6978044045990190793&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6978044045990190793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6978044045990190793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/05/in-seeing-old-friends.html' title='In seeing old friends...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-5257446506523743291</id><published>2008-05-02T00:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T00:59:08.039-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beating Writer's Block</title><content type='html'>My husband and I purchased this desktop in 2004, thinking of getting connected online...finally! No one really needs it badly but we decided that it would be convenient having one and so we did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know about him but my first thoughts were like: Yes! I could write, write and write at my pace, thinking not the inconvenience of doing it outside but the power to express myself with just a few clicks and all. So selfishly convenient, don't you think? hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I'm the type who loves doing my writing  old-style. I keep notes, papers and notebooks where my first creations took refuge, and they pile up and end up in waste cans. Especially when your Mom forgot to ask you first if those were important. So, there they were burnt to extinction...thinking of them now makes me sad ( that? due to I, also being a pack rat,hehe).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the topic, I have adopted certain habits when it comes to writing:&lt;br /&gt;Like...I wanted to have my paper and pen with me...always ready as if  I can't have hard copy.&lt;br /&gt;That...I usually write about love, relationships, heartaches and pain, as if I write my best pieces when I'm at my emotional worst,haha!&lt;br /&gt;That...I love doing it mid afternoon...with a mug of coffee on my side. Truly, caffeine fixes my mood.&lt;br /&gt;That...nowadays...I love, no...I'm prompted to write very late due to inconsistent sleep practices.&lt;br /&gt;That...while working on an essay...I would suddenly find my brains prodding me to write about something else...I have a limited attention span and my writing helps me widen it somehow,retain focus even for a while. Thank God!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, the reason why I'm doing this is because I've been battling with writer's block this very time. I have set my plans and hopefully get started on essays I have been dying to submit but failed to do it for weeks now. I don't know...I'm not inspired and I feel a work done half-heartedly is not a good one at all. I'd rather take my time than submit mediocre articles buzzing rejection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read somewhere that the only way to beat writer's block is to write.&lt;br /&gt;Even if it's all nonsense, the thing is- you are slowly motivating yourself to write at a much controlled pace...allow yourself to take time until every suitable factor gets back to life.&lt;br /&gt;The motivation...willingness... intensity of emotions, concentration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I even resorted to rewriting just to overcome procrastination and hopefully the articles will be ready soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Reading!&lt;br /&gt;Ciao!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-5257446506523743291?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/5257446506523743291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=5257446506523743291&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/5257446506523743291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/5257446506523743291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/05/beating-writers-block.html' title='Beating Writer&apos;s Block'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-4591515989174296324</id><published>2008-05-01T06:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T06:46:01.374-07:00</updated><title type='text'>texting 101</title><content type='html'>Hi! Each day, I receive a no. of good text messages from friends and family- words or phrases that inspire, encourage, enlighten whatever sense  I bear. Since I was unfortunately being tagged as broken hearted( you know who you are,hehe), I did not really take offense but I guess, it's time to change the tone a little...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For starters, let me share with you a couple of good messages I received these last few days...&lt;br /&gt;Let your minds dwell on these beautiful passages...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;* "Every experience brings out something good. Good times become good memories, bad memories become good lessons.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You never lose , you only gain from life."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;this is from a private school teacher who is also a good friend back grade school days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;* " we may sometimes wonder why friends keep forwarding messages to us. Let me enlighten you: we are all very busy,but still want to keep in touch; we have nothing to say but still want to stay connected; we have something to say but don't know what and how to say it; we want to let you know that you are remembered, important, loved and missed; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So, the next time you get a message from me, don't think of it as just another forwarded text...but rather...I have thought of you today! Take care!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;this is from one of the most hardworking people I know...a very good companion back in high school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;* " Sometimes, we realize to change for the better just when the situation got worse...we realize to finally correct our mistakes just when those mistakes have caused irreversible damage... we finally decided to prove ourselves worthy when the person whom you want to prove your worth has already decided that you're not worth it at all...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Most of the lessons are learned when the test is over, that's how ironic life is."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;this is from a dutiful daughter and sister...a very good friend who I am glad to spend my recent days...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;* "We want nothing but the best. We ask for practically all the good things. Good things come in either small or big packages...but why wait for these to come...if you can make them happen."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;me....:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Reading!!!&lt;br /&gt;Ciao and Tc !!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-4591515989174296324?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/4591515989174296324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=4591515989174296324&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/4591515989174296324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/4591515989174296324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/05/texting-101.html' title='texting 101'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-3984469516817879590</id><published>2008-04-29T04:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T05:27:46.132-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my concept of push and pull...</title><content type='html'>A few hours ago, I did something that made me realize how I am as a person when it comes to acceptance, in various aspects that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can say that I, being a friend, is loyal and true. I am always sincere in knowing them and getting along is merely not a problem. I would like to think that I have a way with people, that I can really be of help whenever they need it and you won't expect me to leave you running when you're in deep trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess, I have gained very great friends. Some of them, actually most of them, have been with me for years as in decades. I do not mind being with somebody, knowing him or her, I will always take time in dealing with them for befriending means sharing a part of yourself more so your time. It is an investment but such should not be taken as it is...what I meant was an investment of emotions, good ones at that and of course, accepting the entire person. It involves time which according to Rick Warren's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Purpose Driven Life&lt;/span&gt;...is the best expression of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what's my point?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a friend who I severed ties with. I have a friend who, I thought, betrayed me. When anger sets in, you think of awful things and you deny yourself of logic, that you end up wasting precious time contemplating on what he has done to you; how he wronged you, etc. It's bad...really. It's like when you're emotionally ill, you tend to be sick totally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when this facade of anger finally faded, I made a turnaround by apologizing and telling that person that I do understand. He did what he did for that's what the circumstances allow him to do. It doesn't mean that we can get back or be friends as if nothing happened...Of course, it also takes time.&lt;br /&gt;Just the thought of being mad over something, saying what wasn't supposed to be said...kills me. It's more of living with the guilt that I allowed myself to be angry and incoherently pathetic by lashing back not the fact of whether my friend intentionally hurt me or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the short run...I made amends. I compromised pride a little but I believed pride is a luxury not a necessity( I know some would disagree but we can discuss pride further on future posts,haha). I have had my constant worrying of whether or not I should do this or that, but I did anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, our minds tell us to do one thing with our hearts saying no...&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes , our hearts make us feel with our brains uttering never...&lt;br /&gt;That is my concept of push and pull.&lt;br /&gt;A concept that is a dilemma but altruistic too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end of the story? Well, still unknown. If we can be friends or not, it's no longer my call.&lt;br /&gt;Life is too short and making amends during my dying seconds, is practically not my choice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-3984469516817879590?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/3984469516817879590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=3984469516817879590&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/3984469516817879590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/3984469516817879590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-concept-of-push-and-pull.html' title='my concept of push and pull...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-6578685188580767088</id><published>2008-04-26T12:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T13:19:04.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BETTER IN TIME</title><content type='html'>A friend asked me once- how am I dealing with a loss? Do  I ever get over it easily? Do I ever get to grieve and accept all for what it is?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said this and only this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Whenever I'm dealing with a loss, I cry until tears run dry;&lt;br /&gt;  I give myself a good cry each day...until I get all numb;&lt;br /&gt;  I do this for I need it, after a few minutes or so, I feel much better.&lt;br /&gt;  And after days of being a total wreck...I move on...leaving all else but memories.&lt;br /&gt;  Surely...they make you sad but as always...IT GETS BETTER."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's true for me, you know. At times, I feel like I'm one crazy person, creating havoc upon oneself but the craziness makes me feel that I was affected and involved; that I being a wreck is not bad as long as sanity sets in after,hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean...we always get back on track regardless of how hard it is.&lt;br /&gt;Unbelievably, we always do...all because we know that at the end of the day, we have so many things to thank for and appreciate life beyond its' flaws and shortcomings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We become stronger without realizing it. We continually struggle but then, we know that given the chance again- we won't change anything. I won't...for I know that facing it again means being myself once more. And the experience to live...to love...to hurt and forgive sums  it all. Most importantly...the chance given to you is priceless even if it means a loss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;memories make you sad...but it gets better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;  In time...it always does. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-6578685188580767088?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6578685188580767088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=6578685188580767088&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6578685188580767088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6578685188580767088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/04/better-in-time.html' title='BETTER IN TIME'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-3949869459478944588</id><published>2008-04-24T07:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T07:43:01.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In Crossing Lines</title><content type='html'>In a matter of months, my life was changed...I began to see why people do things...for what reasons...how a death could mean life...how a passing means welcoming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandfather died October 2007. I haven't seen him for seven years and by the time I reached him, he was on his deathbed. I was severely disappointed of myself and endured three agonizing weeks. I literally cried everyday, blaming myself for things I did not do, if not chose to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember making a pact days after his funeral. I promised him that I would do my best to make most out of my present life; that I will do things and live my dreams anyhow; that I will never disregard anyone and live each day as if it's my last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is how I decided to write again...&lt;br /&gt;That is why I am mending broken bridges...&lt;br /&gt;In hope of making every day a proud moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In line of doing this, I came across people who re defined my days. I learned to smile and laugh, taking everything not that seriously, and I feel like after a long time, I found myself again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met people who made me re discover myself, that I am somebody and that I am important to others.&lt;br /&gt;I have been with those who gave me problems but later on I realized that such only happens so that I could be better.&lt;br /&gt;I made new friends and created new memories, ones which will remain.&lt;br /&gt;I've been with those who made me see my present and in turn, thought of good old days; I once again re connected my youth and gained because of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a time when lines are crossed...boundaries lifted and it's like being a new person.&lt;br /&gt;For a while, I became fearless. I do things without any guilt. It's living in the very moment...experiencing life the way it is. And I love it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are days when my happiness became so overwhelming, that I forgot about others. That for the first time in my life...I am willing to cross roads less taken and I am not afraid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am not sure if Grandfather would be proud, for I will still make mistakes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;But then again...He taught me one thing:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;It is not about the pitfalls but the journey;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Walking the lines undaunted by anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-3949869459478944588?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/3949869459478944588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=3949869459478944588&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/3949869459478944588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/3949869459478944588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/04/in-matter-of-months-my-life-was-changed.html' title='In Crossing Lines'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-5582547759330289213</id><published>2008-04-20T06:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T06:43:44.837-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DECISIONS.</title><content type='html'>Decisions in life are like hanging threads. You have to choose and use them to make a perfect if not almost perfect handiwork. I was made to choose from the unlikely to the most favorable threads and I have decided- for the best not of my self but of the people around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They're not hanging anymore, for I have come up with a decision to live my life the rightest way. It's true that I have stumbled and fell hard, and standing up is one work in progress. But above anything else, MY MIND SPEAKS NOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could mean a hurt or a broken vow. It could mean restoration and relief. It could spell the difference between a past and a present yet I am deciding now for my future. For whatever life brings me, I am deciding on a fate that is the most suiting and right for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;"in untying the strings...we either hold or let go...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;we choose which is which...hoping that we are making a handiwork so beautiful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Intricate and sensible."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-5582547759330289213?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/5582547759330289213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=5582547759330289213&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/5582547759330289213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/5582547759330289213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/04/decisions.html' title='DECISIONS.'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-7495687795672438912</id><published>2008-04-18T00:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T01:00:54.265-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Other Sister</title><content type='html'>I took my seven year- leave...away from people who I had a misunderstanding with. Yes, seven years and a lot happened that once I left my reprieve for good, it's like meeting new friends with same old faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, it 's not entirely true for even their physique has changed, the looks, some has aged a little, the others have matured and my lovely cousins are all grown up now. How time really flies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I'm done with my hiding and have decided to face what I feared for a long time, I felt relieved that most of them accepted me anyway. That past grudges have been left alongside the passing of time. Of course, it comes up once in a while during chit-chats but we lay most of them to rest since the passing of my grandfather. It's also true that for our family- one's demise proved to be a start to live ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays, I'm into rekindling old ties, mending burnt bridges with both friends and loved ones. All because, time has a way of healing that we sort of begin to understand what has happened, how everything has been blown out of proportion and how does pride and resentment ruined years of good old relationships. This is how I found my other sister. The Aunt who seems to be my twin, taking after her ways without knowing it myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband commented once that I am not like my mother. All because when we're together, you won't find any resemblance at all. Manner of speaking, it's like seeing a different daughter each time. Maybe because, I have lived only a couple of years  with her...as compared to the years I spent with that of my grandparents and aunts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do not be mistaken but I am still my mother's daughter. It's just that finding my other sister is like bringing back a part of me that is too valuable to be taken for granted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Aunt Grace and I practically grew up together. She is several years my senior but we grew up in the family more like in the same time frame. I'd seen how she was with her suitors, even her mischiefs and rebellious ways, and she has been so good to me that I feel so comfortable with her. We became really really close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will skip the details of our rift for it's all in the past now. I regretted the time I never showed any appreciation for what she had done and again, I am apologizing for the pride and anger that came along with the fight. We were alike when we're angry and talking of it now, elicits laughs and smiles for we are indeed the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if we could bring back the old times. If we could be sisters again. We both have our families now and seeing her is like meeting a long-lost friend...seeing a special pal who's gone to some place and came back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's good you know...having you in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Pride is a luxury that we don't need at all,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;  Say sorry if you have to and do it properly,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;  Swallowing one's pride won't hurt...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;  It is a gain...never a loss."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-7495687795672438912?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/7495687795672438912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=7495687795672438912&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/7495687795672438912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/7495687795672438912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-other-sister.html' title='My Other Sister'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-699247293985227938</id><published>2008-04-16T05:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T06:31:32.558-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The "Morrie" in my life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tuesdays with Morrie &lt;/span&gt;by Mitch Albom was the first book I bought after moving in to my new home. I watched it once on cable, and I find it emotionally riveting. It's about a professor's relationship with that of a former student, more so a friend, who after years of absence, found their way again. And honestly, it made me want to see my second grade teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is Ms. Nerissa Cabral. I knew her when I was eight, after dropping from the first section, I became one of her students. And it was a blessing in disguise I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never really assumed myself as studious or diligent that early. Besides, I barely passed my 1st grade subjects, obviously a non- favorite and a wallflower. When I started attending her classes, the new environment made me more composed, and accepting. I made a lot of friends and going to school was no longer a chore. Surprisingly, it was in my second grade when I started to really take some time and interest myself with learning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find her ways not boring. She encourages us to read a page or two from our books each day; always assisting other kids in reading to the point of giving us an extra time after school. To many, she would pass as typical, expectingly eager being her a teacher but to me, it's more than that- there is sincerity in her eyes; genuineness of thought and a concerned look each day as she faces us, her students. We feared her naturally for she is someone you would not dare come across. Seemingly...she knows the boundaries of teaching yet takes good care of us all like her children. I love that about her...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've got to understand that my so called affinity with her is personal for she was the first person to make me realize that I am somebody. I don't know how it happened and for what reasons but Ms. Cabral had been the one who had seen this skinny, fragile looking girl and turn her into a vibrant soul...into someone who sees herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That because of her belief, I started to believe myself. When she made me join my first declamation contest, I could not believe, I'm actually doing it, preparing for it. She asked my mother's permission so we could train after school; she would speak to me as if I'm her age and correct every mistake with conviction. At eight, it appeared like I was playing but with a goal. That I'm slowly giving in to the process of improving and doing what has to be done to win.&lt;br /&gt;After the competition, I went on winning not the medal but the confidence every eight year-old needs. I was changed from then on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am not relating this  to remind myself of old glories. I am reminding myself of how I came to be with people who blessed my life tremendously. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It's not about my first win. It's about a teacher who taught her student discipline and respect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It's about a teacher who changed a young girl's life as she went on to become what she is now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A person who will never lose hope. A person who shares her life and self to other people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I learned from Ms. Nerissa Cabral. She is my mentor. My first teacher. The "Morrie" in my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-699247293985227938?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/699247293985227938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=699247293985227938&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/699247293985227938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/699247293985227938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/04/morrie-in-my-life.html' title='The &quot;Morrie&quot; in my life'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-4648317108654067437</id><published>2008-04-16T02:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T03:17:09.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In pursuit of my dreams...</title><content type='html'>It was barely five months ago, when I decided to pursue my first love- writing. Growing up, I knew I want to be a writer but being in a family and place where I was, it was quite unexpected of me. I never let anyone see what I'd written, I store my drafts beneath loosen floorboards or shoe boxes, fearing that anyone would see. Thinking of it now, I am ashamed that I did what I did due to fear and rejection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do things for it makes us happy and fulfilled. We try departing from it at some point but it haunts us relentlessly- that's what happened to me. I tried denying my first love and after two decades, here I am, writing to my heart's content.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was my dream and still is. Of course, I have not gone successfully like publish my own book or be recognized publicly but who cares? I am loving every minute I spend with my reliable PC. And to sit in front of it, typing whatever comes to mind is a personal bliss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a long way to go and I feel that pursuing my dream, my first love will bring me fulfillment. I don't have to hide works beneath floorboards and I can leave my shoe boxes alone for good. For fear and rejection will always be there. I cannot control others as much as I wish, but if there is one thing I'm totally not afraid of doing- is to write and try my fate as a writer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;If others say that losing hope is tragedy in itself...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I also think that fear is...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Now, I am writing and is not fearful...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Who knows what I can and will do next? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Simply anything!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-4648317108654067437?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/4648317108654067437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=4648317108654067437&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/4648317108654067437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/4648317108654067437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/04/in-pursuit-of-my-dreams.html' title='In pursuit of my dreams...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-1756114826766293208</id><published>2008-04-15T05:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T06:10:00.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a memoir...</title><content type='html'>I remember how I enjoyed reading when I was young. Books for me provide a different kind of sanctuary...a haven where time is yours for the taking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some find reading boring. But to me, I don't think I'll ever find it boring. It's just being in a zone where you read other's thoughts and feel the same emotions as if they're your own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was nine, I wrote my first poem. Too bad, I don't have it now but the memory of it...still vivid. So distinct in fact, that it's like seeing this girl, in her little sun dress, sitting in front of the terrace, holding her pencil jotting down words. That was me, aching to learn anything...hoping that these 2-3 lines of phrases would be enough to pass as poetry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading made me appreciate words as well as rain. How come? For there was this defining moment when I stood beside a window pane, holding my English book, hearing the spatter of rain drops falling. You may find this strange but I believe it was my first time experiencing focus. It's like amidst the noise of these tiny drops, with waters dripping and all, I found all else a comfort. Unbelievably, the rain became soothing like a sort of healing. That is why, whenever rains pour...I am comfortably at ease with everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It amazes me now- how I view these things. This is one of the reasons why childhood, everybody's childhood seems memorable. It reminds us how to see the smallest of things in a bigger picture. Taking it all in...just living for the moment. So carefree...wittingly innocent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-1756114826766293208?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/1756114826766293208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=1756114826766293208&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/1756114826766293208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/1756114826766293208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/04/memoir.html' title='a memoir...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-7285296138314854429</id><published>2008-04-14T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T22:23:37.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Total Surrender.</title><content type='html'>As I've mentioned before, I was then reading this great book by Paulo Coelho entitled "The Zahir". Finishing it is like breathing new air, for I can somehow relate to it and in one fell swoop, I found lessons worth- living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's an excerpt from the book: About releasing everything that holds us back from living our lives; accepting the present and knowing the difference between the desires and needs of our hearts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"That is why it is so important to let things go. To release them. To cut loose. People need to understand that no one is playing with marked cards; sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. Don't expect to get anything back, don't expect recognition for your efforts, don't expect your genius to be discovered or your love to be understood. Complete the circle. Not out of pride, inability or arrogance, but simply because whatever it is no longer fits in your life. Close the door, change the record, clean the house, get rid of the dust. Stop being who you were and become who you are."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like having a clean slate...getting back to square one. It is a step where most people dread of doing- starting over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is never easy nor will be. But one has to try or one will end up miserable than ever. Wallowing in pain is far more dangerous than drowning, for instead of instant death, you're living while dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We expect for people do. We always do. Even at the height of knowing we can't afford to, still we anticipate for it is a desire we keep. It is a want that we thought of having but does not necessarily need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one can ever tell you what to do; how and what to expect in life. Each step is made by your own feet...still, your life is too important to be wasted on desires that no longer fit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our desires....could make or break us.&lt;br /&gt;Letting go is untying whatever cords binding us...from having that clean slate; getting back to square one...starting over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-7285296138314854429?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/7285296138314854429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=7285296138314854429&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/7285296138314854429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/7285296138314854429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/04/total-surrender.html' title='Total Surrender.'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-8291574962065338016</id><published>2008-04-13T00:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T01:24:58.254-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Of friends and faces</title><content type='html'>People like seasons come and go. They grace your life then leave. On your part, you wanted to end it amicably as much as possible even to the point of taking out the pride, thus giving in. I did it but to no avail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally, it would upset me. But this time, I am left with no tears. After hurling like one loose cannon, I felt guilty and said sorry. Maybe, it was a little too late or maybe the one to whom I rendered my apology just can't accept it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People have different thresholds. That point of limitation wherein she finds herself totally fed up. And once such has been touched and hurt, she totally shuts down. I did that several times too. This time, I don't know why...but I am not into shutting down, or giving up just yet, not until I said what is truly inside my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have friends who left with no closure at all. And being the person as I was, I asked for it. But when no positive response came of it...I gave up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have friends who stay with me forever- in heart and mind. And being the person as I am, I welcome it. And when no positive response comes of it...I never give up. I wait...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know my limitations and after exhausting all means known to myself...I find my threshold's end.&lt;br /&gt;When it happens, I let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are people...coming in but seeking not their way out;&lt;br /&gt;There are people...coming and leaving  as their only way out;&lt;br /&gt;There are those who leave with closure and those who leave with none;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless...they are all friends acting like strangers...ones with faces unknown to man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"when we let people in, let us think that they'll not always stay,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;that they too banish like scent in mid-air."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-8291574962065338016?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/8291574962065338016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=8291574962065338016&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/8291574962065338016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/8291574962065338016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/04/of-friends-and-faces.html' title='Of friends and faces'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-7385883586193411766</id><published>2008-04-10T23:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T00:06:16.055-07:00</updated><title type='text'>learning a thing or two...</title><content type='html'>These past days have been tough, for me. I've dealt emotional blows too many, that I've actually thought I'm going crazy. As you can notice, my recent posts has something to do with relationships, moving on, letting go. All because that is the very road a person has to take when she's hurting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am hurting and I can't deny that. I have weighed in the pros and cons of each situation and for most part...I'm being who I was...I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've said that I try seeing goodness in people, preferring to have faith no matter what...But when does one let go of such faith? When one's belief should fade? I think faith is a value a person must try not to forget. For it is through faith that we see the strongest yields in contrast to our weaknesses. But as for every rule, there are exceptions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-when the people you  believed failed you big time!&lt;br /&gt;- when you see that being around them causes you more pain than happiness.&lt;br /&gt;- when they intentionally hurt you.&lt;br /&gt;-when whatever they do makes you miserable.&lt;br /&gt;-when tears...your tears keep on falling 'coz of them.&lt;br /&gt;-and the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;biggie &lt;/span&gt;I think - is when remorse or feeling guilty and sorry for what they did no longer exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just human and I'm hurting to the point of experiencing mixed emotions. In doing so, I often retract and a part of me blindly believes anew but soon after, I realize that we are in a world of all possibilities; where "free will" also means the capacity to inflict pain and cause others agony. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sad but true...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how does one move from there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BE KIND TO YOURSELF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALLOW YOURSELF TO GRIEVE BUT DO NOT OVERDO IT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GETTING UP IS WHAT WE'RE SUPPOSED TO DO AFTER A FALL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BE PATIENT FOR GOOD THINGS AWAIT YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"a life of challenges is a blessed life after all..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-7385883586193411766?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/7385883586193411766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=7385883586193411766&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/7385883586193411766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/7385883586193411766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/04/learning-thing-or-two.html' title='learning a thing or two...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-6519850541313640347</id><published>2008-04-10T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T11:43:18.672-07:00</updated><title type='text'>getting back....</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This is a song entitled "TWO WORDS" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In a while, in a word,&lt;br /&gt;Every moment now returns.&lt;br /&gt;For a while, seen or heard,&lt;br /&gt;How each memory softly burns.&lt;br /&gt;Facing you who brings me new tomorrows,&lt;br /&gt;I thank God for yesterdays,&lt;br /&gt;How they led me to this very hour,&lt;br /&gt;How they led me to this place...&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Every touch, every smile,&lt;br /&gt;You have given me in care.&lt;br /&gt;Keep in heart, always I'll,&lt;br /&gt;Now be treasuring everywhere.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if life should come to just one question,&lt;br /&gt;Do I hold each moment true?&lt;br /&gt;No trace of sadness,&lt;br /&gt;Always with gladness&lt;br /&gt;" I DO..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now a song that speaks of now and ever,&lt;br /&gt;Beckons me to someone new,&lt;br /&gt;Unexpected, unexplored, unseen,&lt;br /&gt;Filled with promise coming through.&lt;br /&gt;In a while, in a word,&lt;br /&gt;You and I forever change,&lt;br /&gt;Love so clear, never blurred,&lt;br /&gt;Has me feeling wondrous strange,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if life should come to just one question,&lt;br /&gt;Do I face each moment true?&lt;br /&gt;No trace of sadness,&lt;br /&gt;Always with gladness&lt;br /&gt;'I DO'&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Never with sadness&lt;br /&gt;Always with gladness&lt;br /&gt;'I DO'&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;* &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Getting back is hard if you had once forgotten...but when old meets the new...the steps aren't difficult as one may seem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-6519850541313640347?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6519850541313640347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=6519850541313640347&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6519850541313640347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6519850541313640347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/04/getting-back.html' title='getting back....'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-7258838199222144875</id><published>2008-04-09T22:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T22:16:05.988-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"just read and learn..."</title><content type='html'>This is from a text message I received earlier. I thought of sharing it here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...a toy was given to a boy and he liked it a lot. As time passed by, the toy became dirty and old. The boy's birthday came and he received a new toy to play with. So he threw the old toy and played with the new one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few weeks, the new toy started to break...he suddenly realized that the old toy was better...&lt;br /&gt;now, he can never find the old toy and he had no toy to play with anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Who do you think suffered much pain?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Sometimes, we never knew what we have until we lose them. That their presence seems unimportant to us...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can never know the value of people around us unless they're out of sight. That their affection would never ran out. Somehow they do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can never make it a habit to get rid of old things and replace them with new ones...for you are not playing with toys...you are with the people who accepted you for who you are...cared for you the best way they could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, do not take anyone for granted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One may also be hurting but remind yourself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When one leaves you, more tend to show up."&lt;br /&gt;That the pain caused to you by one person is nothing as compared to the kindness others bring...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-7258838199222144875?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/7258838199222144875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=7258838199222144875&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/7258838199222144875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/7258838199222144875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/04/just-read-and-learn.html' title='&quot;just read and learn...&quot;'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-3829750110713735923</id><published>2008-04-08T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T07:35:16.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happiness In You</title><content type='html'>Being happy is a matter of perspective, others did say. It is also a matter of choice.Happiness is the only thing everyone aims for- be it in their personal lives or career. And there is nothing wrong asking or needing it for happiness is man's ultimate satisfaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the kind who do value people and relationships too much. I am one of those who feel that the capacity to show concern is innate in all of us. We can have friends in total strangers and love our enemies if one decides to. I am all about spreading love in hope of receiving love too. Am I too dependent on other people since I am somewhat expecting rewards in  knowing and befriending them? One may argue that is one form of selfishness but I disagree still. For whenever I lend my ears to someone, I am for the listening; whenever I listen...I try to understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being the kind of person I am, I can say I am happy each time I meet friends and chat with them. Update each other with current affairs, feeling extremely happy if I learned they're doing really really well in their lives. I can say that I don't mind staying in a coffee shop and freely talk as if we're the only ones present, speak our minds and hearts out, connecting and re connecting some more. That to me is the dynamics of socializing, if not be friending. For in any type of relationship, communicating serves as the ever flowing fountain of concern and love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that my happiness is partly achieved through people I meet and have a relationship with. They could be my source of strength and courage when all else fail. They could inspire me to do better and never stop dreaming. They could hold my hand when I need comfort and embrace my weaknesses. They could see me in ways no one else can. They could point out bad habits and make me change them. They could remind me of what I had never seen or failed to see. They are the very people who makes me appreciate life and makes me live it even more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My happiness is both a choice and a matter of perspective. I find it in  people who are important to me, the ones who remind me how to be human each day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That I am happy knowing that I gained friends and loved-ones and every chance of knowing them, is a choice I'll gladly have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-3829750110713735923?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/3829750110713735923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=3829750110713735923&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/3829750110713735923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/3829750110713735923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/04/happiness-in-you.html' title='Happiness In You'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-7653254007300370820</id><published>2008-04-06T01:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T01:32:46.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>love thoughts...</title><content type='html'>I know I'm one hopeless romantic. When I was still single, I often think of love as magic. Maybe my thing for romanticism comes from what I witnessed on others' stories- how they began, progress and end. As always, I aim for a perfect, happy ending. I guess, everyone wants that for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've written articles about love. How such is a game where only the strong fits in. It's also true, I guess. For when you are loving someone, you give your best, hoping that you'll be loved back. It is just plain sad that not all relationships last. That hearts are broken along the way and harboring the hurt is doubly difficult. It's like losing a part of yourself too. Breaking apart from what your heart desires. Simply, when one is hurting, no advice is deemed understandable or comprehensive enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If knowing that you lost someone is terrible, what more the healing; moving on. Friends can give you their best advice, people can say what's rational and must be done yet it is just not easy. Of course, it takes time. It takes guts and acceptance. None of which comes convenient at a time but when you do start moving on, you'll know you're healing alongside it. It is always tough and painful, it is always a dreaded path where no one wants to go, but just like life- you need to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was younger, I believe that there's always someone meant for you. It may not be what your heart desires, but once you leave all based on what they are, you'll learn that what you have is truly what love meant for you to have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never ignore the one who's beside you. Do not overlook the soul nearest you...for he/she could be the one for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continue loving and have no regrets in loving someone, be it a happy or sad ending. What matters is that you know how to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it is a game but it doesn't have to be  about winning after all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-7653254007300370820?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/7653254007300370820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=7653254007300370820&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/7653254007300370820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/7653254007300370820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/04/love-thoughts.html' title='love thoughts...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-8054578483391727906</id><published>2008-04-05T05:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T05:59:38.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts....</title><content type='html'>At age 31, I seem to find how things really work for me. For instance, how my writing helps me relieve stress, get rid of unwanted feelings, pour out my anger if I can't help but be upset about people, their ways or even mine. How my life passes through a needle of ups and downs as well as bump elbows with the least likable or unexpected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For awhile, I thought of being free- from the grasps of social judgment. How others can easily put you down by their words. In time, I learned to go around and be with them, for as much as I want to deny, their words also benefit me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These days past, I'm into reliving memories. With those who affected me the most either good or bad. My emotions sometimes get the worst out of me but still after lots of crying, crying and crying some more, I often relieve myself from the so called pangs of pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some of my thoughts this week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* " I stopped being who I was, for in loving you... I become who I am."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*" All my life, I do things based on what I know is right, still I end up losing.&lt;br /&gt; When I somehow started it wrong, I end up discovering what seems to be the rightest thing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* " We held ourselves captive of promises, when in fact, we know it can't always be kept."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*" Love. How I think my efforts must be rewarded. Either by submission, gratitude or recognition. When it's like buying love instead of earning it back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* " Do not think, for once, you are not being loved. But of how you came to love yourself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are my random thoughts. All of which are defined by my experiences. I write about them to not be reminded of the ache or pain... but to see how I move from there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-8054578483391727906?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/8054578483391727906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=8054578483391727906&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/8054578483391727906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/8054578483391727906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/04/thoughts.html' title='Thoughts....'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-3852439971466079814</id><published>2008-03-23T23:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T23:44:36.211-07:00</updated><title type='text'>an avenue of change...</title><content type='html'>We all have stories to tell...to share. What could have prevented us from doing so is the lack of medium if not listening ears. When I started this blog, I thought only of putting my ideas, sentiments and thoughts, allowing myself to be drawn into a realm, where I can be me, and have my feelings heard. I feel that every time I write, I am detaching my outer self and attune more to my inner being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have many great friends and they have stories too. We often chat about it, converse as if time is a luxury to behold. Having our feelings been brought out is wonderful, for it lets us see what our eyes refuse to see and let our hearts speak for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I would like to invite my friends and share with them this avenue...for in my purpose of relating their stories...it's not only me who grows alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-3852439971466079814?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/3852439971466079814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=3852439971466079814&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/3852439971466079814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/3852439971466079814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/03/avenue-of-change.html' title='an avenue of change...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-3709872736321301188</id><published>2008-03-14T21:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T21:58:10.451-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Very Own Zahir...</title><content type='html'>I am currently reading, " The Zahir" by Paulo Coelho. And at first, I was thinking...what does zahir exactly mean? Here's the definition:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    "In Buenos Aires, the Zahir is a common 20-centavo coin; the letters N and T and the number 2 bear the marks of a knife or a letter opener; 1929 is the date engraved on the reverse.&lt;br /&gt;(In Gujarat, at the end of the eighteenth century, the Zahir was a tiger; in Java, it was a blind man from the Surakarta Mosque who was stoned by the faithful; in Persia, an astrolabe that Nadir Shah ordered to be thrown into the sea; in the Mahdi's prison, in around 1892, a small compass that had been touched by Rudolf Karl von Slatin...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very broad but indefinable definition, that is for me. And just like, the character in the book, I believe my Zahir is not a thing but a person...if not my feelings surrounding that person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once wrote that- you will never know how one truly affects you unless you let that person into your life. Letting all your guards down; accepting his/her flaws and even make them your own. In my past and present relationships with people, I have recognized their beauty and kindness hoping that as time grows, we would be growing too. That in the midst of this imperfect world, I can still be at peace with them having my best interests at heart as much as I have theirs. We pretend that challenges be it in our friendship or any kind of relationship for that matter cannot be bigger that what they seem to be- always ready to adapt and be kind to each other until we perfect the craft of weaving an interpersonal kind of mingling...of accepting. However, no matter how good you are in said craft, personal relationships do wither and die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for me, I have learned such a little too late. And absurd as it may sound, I cannot understand why I keep on committing same mistakes. Accepting then be left wounded regardless of how good my nurturing is. I cannot fathom simply how good people turn as not-so-good, defying the standards of what could have been a perfect relationship, even to your own standards I think. Maybe because, once you let someone in, someone tends to go out. Maybe once you let your guards down, they're seeing you for what you really are and it appears unacceptable to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Zahir is someone who will affect me throughout my life, even if he stops existing. My Zahir will be the same someone who I tried accepting then end up not accepting me. My  Zahir is a person who had tried to make me see what I long forgotten in life; make them remember and help me revive both the unseen and unforgettable. My Zahir will be the very person who breezes past me like a storm; stays and leaves with same abandon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am hurting...yes. I am bewildered too. I will always be asking the same questions and repeat them without any clue. As for my very own Zahir...I know and will continue knowing you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-3709872736321301188?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/3709872736321301188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=3709872736321301188&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/3709872736321301188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/3709872736321301188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/03/my-very-own-zahir.html' title='My Very Own Zahir...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-3446889180589420175</id><published>2008-03-09T05:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T05:48:02.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>holding back the tears...</title><content type='html'>As we learn to deal with life...we keep hoping that everyone who graces our lives would be worth knowing. As it turned out, some are and some people aren't.  If they turn out to be friendly and nice even great, we are indeed lucky...but if they turn out to be otherwise...we should be prepared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have met good people and glad I did. Till now, I cherish their friendship. I value their love and affection, concern and thoughtfulness. If there is one feeling that relieves us of all pain- that would have to be comforting and kind words from people. Be it a simple pat on the back; a warm embrace or a smile, it gives us this wonderful feeling that not all things are lost anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have met not-so-good ones too. I also cherished their time and effort but I'm not that sure if there is friendship or any kind of relationship involved. I also don't know how to deal with these people afterwards...since if you have been sincere all along...you'll be hurt for sure if they turn out as not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regrets. One may choose to have none but it's hard to not have any. At some moments, you would feel the need to hurt and accept the harshness of men and their actions.  Along the way of accepting, you'll be truly hurt that words come out like bullets out of nowhere. They're unstoppable as each tends to wound but never heal...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I thought regrets are not acceptable, but I'm having a hard time not entertaining any. Once you're betrayed and left bleeding...your wounds hurt even more and if ever time subsides the pain...there'll be scars to make you remember after all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-3446889180589420175?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/3446889180589420175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=3446889180589420175&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/3446889180589420175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/3446889180589420175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/03/holding-back-tears.html' title='holding back the tears...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-7411860105242410966</id><published>2008-02-23T00:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T23:43:03.366-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wikipilipinas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='filipina writing contest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='entry'/><title type='text'>The Iconography of the Modern Filipina</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 200%;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 200%;font-family:Garamond;font-size:14;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 200%;font-family:Garamond;font-size:14;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 200%; font-family: verdana;font-family:Garamond;font-size:14;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;In a country where men tend to feel superior, I feel that the modern Filipina has a take if not a huge role in molding a society of greatness and equality. This high regard solely comes from my perspective as a young woman, seeing others my age strive for personal growth and fulfillment. Through the years, we have seen the best and worst of times, dictating norms through which Filipino women either adapt or accept, and the best offered what this lifetime has for a woman who wants to stay true to herself…with the worst typifying the kind of abuse and torment a woman faces as cruelty takes place. Neither becomes a help nor resolution unless we see every Filipina and her worth- in its truest sense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 200%;font-size:14;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Who is the modern Filipina? Is she the kind who graces someone else’s home donning aprons alone? Or is she the ever seeking, ambitious career woman who prefers work over family and relationships? Does time has something to do with changes in her mind or is it the changes propelling time for women to take charge? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 200%;font-size:14;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;A modern Filipina is someone who regards time as her way of doing…achieving things. She makes use of them with patience and wit; knowing how every minute spells change. There are those whose toughness reveals them in power suits while others in terms of disciplining their kids. She makes every decision with utmost care, bearing that urgency needs not to be quick but wise instead. She makes time her compass, her medium for the world, facing what needs to be faced and doing what needs to be done- not only for herself but for others.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 200%;font-size:14;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;A modern Filipina makes every house a home. Her caressing hands equip oneself of caring for a family she loves; her thinking mind grants her the wisdom to make decisions beneficial to all and her gracious presence provides warmth to a household where children and spouses enjoy. A Filipina is a mother whose love is unconditional. She knows when and where to give compassion, healing wounds and bringing smiles. A mother is the ever nurturing soul…with ears which do not only listen but understands; with lips which do not only kisses but speaks in gentle sparks. At some point in our lives, we knew of our mothers as our savior, and Filipina mothers have always been like that- so ready to care and protect the ones they love…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 200%;font-size:14;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;A modern Filipina is a woman of society. She is well- mannered, and principles define her charm. We believe in the goodness of every man/woman, the capacity to effect change and be instrumental in the betterment of our country. We manage offices; take part in socio-civic affairs. We never just cook or launder clothes for we have our bodies, our minds working …rearing. Every Filipina assumes a role worth knowing as she knows where to go…for what purpose and never departs from challenges.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 200%;font-size:14;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;A modern Filipina is a woman of God. Her beliefs she practices with utmost conviction. Faith brings her to her knees, knowing that there is a greater source of strength beyond her own. She never ridicules someone else’s faith for respect she follows. She holds pride wisely learning that life is a road she cannot travel alone. She recognizes faces for their worth as she wants them to recognize hers along. She holds strongly the fire within, making her friends and family, feel that faith and religion is important for one’s enlightenment, proving how help comes in many ways and forms.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 200%;font-size:14;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;A Filipina is anyone who shares her being unselfishly. Be it at home, work, charity or politics or even religion, she knows where she stands and how she moves. Her beauty is not about color, race, age or body size, it is about her total person, the manner she carries herself to the eyes who may either like or dislike them. Her knowledge goes with experience; it spells brain with a softer brawl for knowing what is right or wrong for herself. She values her conscience and acts accordingly with it, utilizing her hunch and guts to prove it. She is one woman who will never allow anyone to harm her-physically or verbally. For she knows she is capable of self- protecting. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 200%;font-size:14;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;Yes. A modern Filipina is all these and she will always be. Achieve what you conceive and never let anyone utter your voice for you…speak it yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;This post is a submission for the WikiPilipinas Filipina Writing Contest. I am a 30-yr. old aspiring writer who feels that Filipinas are great images of substance and wealth, both in mind and heart. Support the Filipina Images campaign and help thrive women empowerment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 200%;font-family:Garamond;font-size:14;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-7411860105242410966?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/7411860105242410966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=7411860105242410966&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/7411860105242410966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/7411860105242410966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/02/iconography-of-modern-filipina.html' title='The Iconography of the Modern Filipina'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-6339435442401920551</id><published>2008-02-14T11:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T11:16:09.384-08:00</updated><title type='text'>PROUD TO BE FILIPINO</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I am proud to be a Filipino- &lt;/b&gt;for having the sincerest smile even in times of adversity; for being resilient amidst many changes; for valuing family and relationships; for seeking belief during seemingly dark hours, always seeing light at the end of everything. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;A Filipino journeys to foreign soil in search of green pastures. What his beloved country fails to deliver, he tends to find beyond his own shores. Yet, a Filipino never forgets. A Filipino will always yearn to go back home. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I am proud for in a Filipino’s mind resides both experience and wisdom. He values education, studies life less its pretensions. Children of poverty most Filipinos are, but dreams remain. It rarely fades as we work our way with ambition. I see this trait in many of us- how we speak not with words but with compassion. How we write merely not in letters but in vivid expression.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;A Filipino’s heart is that of a mother- unconditionally nurturing. We love our people and care as if relating with our souls. We can protect and defend the weak, help those in need. Be it a brawl with losing ends, true Filipinos defer surrenders. We are loyal to friends and contend foes but are never too wary of strangers. I am proud to be a Filipino as we take pride in honor and selflessness.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I speak in a strange tongue as if conversing not in a Filipino way but I am doing so for I know what we are capable of doing…achieving. As we go beyond our nation’s realm, we prepare ourselves thinking how being a Filipino means competence and worldliness. We are like wandering fireflies, eager to discover different places yet emit the very Filipino light all the same.&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: &amp;quot;Century Gothic&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-6339435442401920551?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6339435442401920551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=6339435442401920551&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6339435442401920551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6339435442401920551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/02/proud-to-be-filipino.html' title='PROUD TO BE FILIPINO'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-4193920535403626366</id><published>2008-02-10T22:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T22:37:22.437-08:00</updated><title type='text'>to have and to hold...</title><content type='html'>To have what we want...to cherish whoever we love...should be the rightest thing.&lt;br /&gt;We are meant to live and have someone...who simply loves us for who we are.&lt;br /&gt;Neither letters nor words can make us see love, for what it is...&lt;br /&gt;It is always the heart that speaks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I love you"... regardless of how many times said will always feel different.&lt;br /&gt;Each time such is uttered- we feel the warmth and sincerity, gracing us with this complete sanity of feeling the greatest emotion...we dare to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have no regrets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It ain't true that love is unselfish...for it is.&lt;br /&gt;It ain't true that selfish love is unreal...for it can be."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To have is to hold close the fire ...&lt;br /&gt;To hold is to take each moment and make each day count...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-4193920535403626366?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/4193920535403626366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=4193920535403626366&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/4193920535403626366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/4193920535403626366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/02/to-have-and-to-hold.html' title='to have and to hold...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-1637583085729759960</id><published>2008-02-03T09:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T10:15:06.829-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Quotes...</title><content type='html'>"If loving you depends on time spent, I'd be willing to spend forever.&lt;br /&gt;  If loving you depends on fate, I'd be willing to defy what destiny meant."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is the greatest equalizer. It goes beyond color, age, and even time. It makes every futile move meaningful as it deals with one's emotions. It gives life to those who have eluded hope. Brings reason to every illogical thought...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many have decided to love using their hearts way over their minds. No one can ever put the blame to those who did as we knew very well how we love- we are baring our selves in light of public scrutiny; exposing our weaknesses to these jaundiced eyes. Yet, we still dare to feel and love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could be true how love works supposedly as a game, where only the strong-willed fits in. That there is no guarantee of winning unless finding someone who simply loves you back. But we keep on playing - all because loving brings us the greatest joy our hearts would always care to find.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-1637583085729759960?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/1637583085729759960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=1637583085729759960&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/1637583085729759960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/1637583085729759960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/02/baby-quotes_03.html' title='Baby Quotes...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-8929247112508901059</id><published>2008-02-01T00:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T00:31:24.350-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Quotes...</title><content type='html'>"&lt;span id="shoutouttxt" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"&gt;Each day passes but never is my affection; the passion grows but not my inhibitions. If loving you means wading in a pool of lowly lows...I'd rather drown than breathe life without your own.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-8929247112508901059?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/8929247112508901059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=8929247112508901059&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/8929247112508901059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/8929247112508901059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/02/baby-quotes.html' title='Baby Quotes...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-7216895162987415600</id><published>2008-02-01T00:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T00:11:26.706-08:00</updated><title type='text'>“SHE GOT MAIL”</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 200%;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: &amp;quot;Century Gothic&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: &amp;quot;Century Gothic&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;It was months after she resumed her job as a freelance writer. Been updating contacts; checking her email. As she rummaged through the stacks of paper in front her, Jenna has never imagined finding this one letter that will change her life…and love forever. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: &amp;quot;Century Gothic&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;It was half past nine and coffee is the only thing keeping Jenna fully awake. In her hand is a pretty neat, white envelope bearing a not-so-unfamiliar name. &lt;i style=""&gt;“This should be&lt;/i&gt; &lt;i style=""&gt;him. But how did he..?”&lt;/i&gt; Jenna felt, her fingers could not manage to rip or tear a part of it, minding its’ detail inch by inch. &lt;i style=""&gt;“Here goes nothing…,”&lt;/i&gt; Jenna thought. First there was the scent of this light-colored stationery, she scanned it seeing the loops and dots all known to be someone else’s handwriting- Francis’.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: &amp;quot;Century Gothic&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Francis Cruz. The boy who caught Jenna’s heart a long time ago; the apple of her and her best friend’s eyes too. As she carefully read everything, she suddenly recalled the days when she would speak of him not to everyone but to herself. Wishing at the back of her mind, the endless what-ifs and could’ve been, pretending all the while as this ever loyal friend giving way to a blossoming young love back then.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Until that fateful night came…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: &amp;quot;Century Gothic&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Gina, her best friend came to her dorm rushing. She was crying and Jenna knew all along- Francis just broke up with her. Gina had been saying things, how it all happened, how he decided to end it anyway. How he said Gina wasn’t the right girl; how he liked someone else.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Jenna pretended to just hear but somehow felt guilty. For she knew very well who the woman Francis is talking about…it was Jenna herself.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: &amp;quot;Century Gothic&amp;quot;;"&gt;“Damn it! How could he?! Does he know what I sacrificed for him? I’ve been trying to please him the best way I can. Am I not enough?! Tell me Jen, what’s wrong with me?!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: &amp;quot;Century Gothic&amp;quot;;"&gt;“Nothing’s wrong with you…nothing.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: &amp;quot;Century Gothic&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;If only she had the courage to tell how Francis told her everything the night before. If only she said no then Gina wouldn’t be like this and all is well for sure. But she loves him…way before Gina came…ever since when? Only Jenna knows.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: &amp;quot;Century Gothic&amp;quot;;"&gt;It was a love so unexpected. It was an affair that lasted alongside her best friend’s. It wasn’t right but Jenna can’t refuse, how could she? If her happiness seems to be hers too, sharing a love that is painful for her yet undeniable.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: &amp;quot;Century Gothic&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;But some secrets are meant to be known. One of them is the love she and Francis have been sharing for nearly six months. Gina never hesitated confronting her, saying the meanest and hurtful words friends wouldn’t dare to. She kept silent…taking it all as if it was her fault…and so she decided to end whatever there is between her and Francis. All said in a letter, no personal meetings whatsoever.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: &amp;quot;Century Gothic&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;As she finished reading, memories came to her as if it happened just yesterday. The lack of closure, as well as the many unanswered questions, but this time it’s different. Francis is back and Jenna knew guilt is something she won’t bear this time. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: &amp;quot;Century Gothic&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Four years had passed. Gina never trusted her again. Francis went on living his life. And Jenna, remained a hopeless romantic, searching for the love she knew she will never find. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: &amp;quot;Century Gothic&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;If there is something about that letter, it is more than enough for her. Inside is the love that was once raw but real, a love that brought her back both the memories and wonder. Jenna is fully awake now, not because of caffeine but because on the next few days…there is one flight worth-waiting.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-7216895162987415600?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/7216895162987415600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=7216895162987415600&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/7216895162987415600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/7216895162987415600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/02/she-got-mail.html' title='“SHE GOT MAIL”'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-6623240854256361150</id><published>2008-01-30T01:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T01:35:21.244-08:00</updated><title type='text'>in my mind...</title><content type='html'>Today started out typically the same. I woke up, drank  coffee and ate my brunch, did some emailing then did my laundry. As it went out, I started receiving messages- inspirational ones from friends. And then I asked, "these all started out as thoughts from people...rhythmic lines of womanly and manly souls."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, we often ignore or not pay attention to these messages, the forwarded ones. I was one of those. My friend Roel even knew how I ignored forwarded texts, for normally my thinking runs like this- if you want to check out on me, see if I'm okay, why not ask me straight?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now, thinking of how forwarded messages come to life, I started appreciating each if not the person sending it. It's his/her way of saying hi. An expression of kindness and thought. A manner of showing how one gives importance to  you...that he/she just wanted to let you know how you are still remembered...valued. Of course, there are those who picked it up out of habit. But what the heck? The fact that they invested their humbly peso means something after all. That such is well- spent on behalf of a friend,who may or may not react to it, yet knows you're there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Words are like leaves,&lt;br /&gt; You say and utter them like flowing breaths of air.&lt;br /&gt; They fall and could vanish before you know it,&lt;br /&gt; But the meaning stays like imprints of time bared."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-6623240854256361150?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6623240854256361150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=6623240854256361150&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6623240854256361150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6623240854256361150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/01/in-my-mind.html' title='in my mind...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-1513964691420401166</id><published>2008-01-29T00:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T00:32:45.473-08:00</updated><title type='text'>my thoughts for the day...</title><content type='html'>For quite some time, I have been wondering about how I fared in life these past years. I was once a dreamer, an idealist, always seeing things based on how I envision them to be. Seeking purpose in each day...overwhelming myself with the vastness of the world, overlooking the dreadful thought of realism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now...I have found myself still dreaming. Living in a life with all its' imperfections. Seeking love that is too daunting... I have left years ago with a courageous heart just to feel the rawness of emotions after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New year, new dreams.&lt;br /&gt;New life, new bliss.&lt;br /&gt;Be armed with perception so real...&lt;br /&gt;As it will leave you breathless, still.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-1513964691420401166?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/1513964691420401166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=1513964691420401166&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/1513964691420401166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/1513964691420401166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/01/my-thoughts-for-day.html' title='my thoughts for the day...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-2602708163902781166</id><published>2007-12-12T04:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T04:38:21.299-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Women: age 30 and up</title><content type='html'>For us women, age is never just a number. For instance, 7 means proper schooling; 12 is like the end of grade school; 16 is being in 4th year high school and 18 means  one's entry to  womanhood.&lt;br /&gt;We associate  our age usually with our  life  events,  important  happenings  which  create for us  all those lovely  memories.  But what it is with age that women tend to fear? Do we really have to think that getting a year older means diminution in our physicality? Does it really have to be a negative thing? How about "embracing aging gracefully"? Besides, the no. of years we already spent in life means more than just losing one's fair or beauty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always keep a positive mind. Be healthy both in spirit and heart. It will help you outgrow insecurities and negate pessimism in our daily living. I must admit that I was a pessimist most of my life, yet it is only when I reached my late 20's when  I finally realized LIFE AS A SPRING OF HOPE AND LOVE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-2602708163902781166?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/2602708163902781166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=2602708163902781166&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/2602708163902781166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/2602708163902781166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/12/women-age-30-and-up.html' title='Women: age 30 and up'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-8262223383052608434</id><published>2007-11-26T05:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T05:29:19.564-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving no stone unturned...</title><content type='html'>Today, i have received a great news! I finally have the chance to see if i can really write and be a writer! I have been relying on friends who keep on telling me that my writing is good. Of course, i want to believe them but the truth of the matter is- i don't.&lt;br /&gt;I think it has something to do with the fact that i've written so many works,as in essays,articles and none of which have been read by many, in fact, no one from my immediate family knows that i do write. Fear of rejection- i think, is my enemy. My sense of insecurity always denies me the pleasure to believe and have faith in myself. But for years now, i am still pursuing my interest.&lt;br /&gt;When i got married, i became a stay-at-home wife, and have not worked since. For seven years, i have been writing about almost anything and i keep each paper,folded and hidden. At a time when frustration got the best of me, i got rid of them all and have it burnt. Sad but true, that sometimes, the most important things have to be sacrificed just because i have not had the courage to stay true to myself.&lt;br /&gt;But now, it's different. After my grandfather's demise, i have told myself that living my life means putting everything else in proper perspective- that i will try to be a better person; be more considerate of others; believe that change need not to be fearing nor gruesome but welcoming. And by the time i  sent that very email, i knew that there is no turning back.&lt;br /&gt;At this point, i still remember that day when a friend and I adapted the phrase- "believe in yourself". Yes, simple but life-changing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-8262223383052608434?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/8262223383052608434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=8262223383052608434&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/8262223383052608434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/8262223383052608434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/11/leaving-one-stone-unturned.html' title='Leaving no stone unturned...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-6000642410598834303</id><published>2007-11-25T03:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T03:09:01.146-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In memory of Guillermo Ladeza'/><title type='text'>"Pagtangis"</title><content type='html'>Sa pusong labis na balot ng lungkot,&lt;br /&gt;Yaring hinagpis mariing bumabalot,&lt;br /&gt;Mga luhang wangis ay tuyong talulot,&lt;br /&gt;Sa nagdaang panahon, wari'y pahintulot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang mga pusong hanap ay kabigkis,&lt;br /&gt;Sa mga naulila, tanikala ang kaparis.&lt;br /&gt;Hangad na pangako, di tuluyang bumalik,&lt;br /&gt;Sa isang naghihintay, na bigong umiibig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa pisngi ng kalahatan, may ilog na tumatangis,&lt;br /&gt;Karimlan ay dusa sa kapalarang malupit.&lt;br /&gt;Panahong lumipas, tila araw na sumilip,&lt;br /&gt;Nagbabagang lungkot ang tanging alumpihit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-6000642410598834303?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6000642410598834303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=6000642410598834303&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6000642410598834303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/6000642410598834303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/11/pagtangis.html' title='&quot;Pagtangis&quot;'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5953577323791259929.post-142461439483639224</id><published>2007-11-24T22:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T22:39:05.431-08:00</updated><title type='text'>my first...</title><content type='html'>In life, we opt to decide on a lot of things- career, personal life, purpose. But each day presents a list of possibilities. We can decide when to start something new or to be satisfied with what we have presently.&lt;br /&gt;I  created this blog so i can finally do my first love- writing. When i was in school, my friends thought that i have this gift of gab.I can easily converse and speak what's in my mind. Yet, my own issues prevented me from pursuing writing as i  content myself with writing journals for my own seeing. I have seen people who write and have their own blogs, i want to really emulate them and initiate it myself. I guess, after a long reprieve, i've decided to break my silence and take on the challenge to finally be heard through my words. A wonderful feeling indeed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5953577323791259929-142461439483639224?l=jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/142461439483639224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5953577323791259929&amp;postID=142461439483639224&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/142461439483639224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5953577323791259929/posts/default/142461439483639224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jrealmproseandpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-first.html' title='my first...'/><author><name>jrealm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12986052595215240757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FaSMFSPB4pc/R57g6-sJvUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/jtv7cXvpbOU/S220/P1010998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
