<?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-13504942</id><updated>2012-02-12T15:45:05.055+08:00</updated><title type='text'>fracturedfingertips</title><subtitle type='html'>sa mga panahong hindi ko masabi ang aking nararamdaman</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>299</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-6086329982727776392</id><published>2011-12-07T01:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T01:25:24.002+08:00</updated><title type='text'>2009 - 2011</title><summary type='text'>Things are okay. Things are fine, I think. They are moving fast, but fine, nonetheless.I had been working at some local private apparel company for 5 years. In my last year, I was already at the brink of getting too old for marriage. At 28ish, I met my husband. We dated for almost a year and on our 10th month together, I was told of a possibility of working in India for 3 months, risking of not </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/6086329982727776392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=6086329982727776392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/6086329982727776392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/6086329982727776392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2011/12/2009-2011.html' title='2009 - 2011'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-7514583894830889040</id><published>2011-05-26T00:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T00:06:07.623+08:00</updated><title type='text'>7, 8 years?</title><summary type='text'>I still think about him. Sadly, I still do. And I am feeling really  weird about it. Pakiramdam ko hindi pa talaga kami tapos. Meron pang  unspoken thing na namamagitan samin. But we just can't say it because  it's not right. The circumstances changed.Pero, baka feeling ko lang yan.Or maybe it's true. All  I know is that it's true for me. Minsan, napapasagi siya sa isip ko.  Just his face. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/7514583894830889040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=7514583894830889040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/7514583894830889040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/7514583894830889040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2011/05/7-8-years.html' title='7, 8 years?'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-674305575976644482</id><published>2008-03-28T02:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T02:29:33.534+08:00</updated><title type='text'>jeep</title><summary type='text'>There could be no sunshine for me here.    I was on the bus this morning; my close friend right next to me. He said, “when I have extra money, I will definitely buy one of that car”, as he pointed to a Jeep wrangler for exceptional terrains. The jeep was cute. It was small but elevated to suit various terrains. I imagined our very first jeep that my family bought. It was similar to that. I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/674305575976644482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=674305575976644482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/674305575976644482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/674305575976644482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2008/03/jeep.html' title='jeep'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-7348698570633228873</id><published>2007-11-08T23:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T23:57:14.546+08:00</updated><title type='text'>non-existent</title><summary type='text'>Maybe it's just another one of those fleeting happy days that set me up high and suddenly drop me off somewhere -- clueless and in pieces. Or, maybe not.I used to think that happiness is the key; that as long as I am happy, everything is fine and will be fine. I smile. I do. And I'm happy. Or am I? There's just this lurking feeling of guilt, of question -- if one's happiness brings someone else's</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/7348698570633228873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=7348698570633228873' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/7348698570633228873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/7348698570633228873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/11/non-existent.html' title='non-existent'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-2511093097512931935</id><published>2007-11-07T10:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T21:41:02.291+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my path; my choice</title><summary type='text'>watching the smoke wander around my face as some alternative opm serenades... i guess this has to be done.this is my third stick. facts wont change. truth wont either. wrong will never be right. no matter how many more sticks i burn.i am in the dirtiest emotional game i have known. i am THE third party. the meantime girl. the other woman. the losing end.i feel that my value as a woman in the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/2511093097512931935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=2511093097512931935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/2511093097512931935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/2511093097512931935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-path-my-choice.html' title='my path; my choice'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-2573955913646243158</id><published>2007-10-28T01:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T01:17:20.954+08:00</updated><title type='text'>two days after</title><summary type='text'>it's been two days. i am relieved from one of the major consequences of my sin. i shall betray myself.should i tell him or not?i made a mistake which i've known to be of such nature from the start but i still allowed it to happen. if i tell him, things will change between us. not just things but everything. if i won't, things will go on as normal. after all, i love him and inten to completely </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/2573955913646243158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=2573955913646243158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/2573955913646243158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/2573955913646243158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/10/two-days-after.html' title='two days after'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-7592074077097123376</id><published>2007-10-28T01:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T01:24:20.479+08:00</updated><title type='text'>lamenting</title><summary type='text'>autumn sunday afternoon. it looks hot outside. i doubt it tho, if it feels as it looks. it is, however, hot here inside the spaceous apartment. sun's rays have been hitting my bed this morning. i could have forgotten summer's long over.barbie's tabing ilog continues to play in the background. at least supportive of the heat here. i could just use a little bit of imagination to  astral travel to </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/7592074077097123376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=7592074077097123376' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/7592074077097123376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/7592074077097123376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/10/lamenting.html' title='lamenting'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-2325430630133924075</id><published>2007-10-24T01:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T01:16:23.208+08:00</updated><title type='text'>that guy</title><summary type='text'>he is nice. perhaps only now and because he wants something from me. i can not seem to figure out his intention.is he just looking for sex or is he for real?he can not be for real. but he is a good real deal.phd student at wash state. five years teaching experience at up. up graduate. bachelor, or so he says. what else... hahaha. i guess that's all. and... there is nothing much, is there?i may </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/2325430630133924075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=2325430630133924075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/2325430630133924075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/2325430630133924075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/10/that-guy.html' title='that guy'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-8132838377668083336</id><published>2007-10-06T01:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T01:21:15.329+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i regret</title><summary type='text'>Speaking of awkwardness. i know that is not my first time anymore. i must have been crazy to do this. i am a sinner. i betrayed my boyfriend, God, and myself.it happened. i didnt want it to happen but it did. as expected, and as always...i regret.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/8132838377668083336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=8132838377668083336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/8132838377668083336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/8132838377668083336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-regret.html' title='i regret'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-7354463404322443926</id><published>2007-10-06T01:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T01:18:30.350+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm sorry</title><summary type='text'>im sorry.ive wronged you. i regret what ive done. it makes me feel like shit just by mere thoughts about it. it was never a matter of emotions. that day before i boarded the plane, i sent you a message. i wanted to say sorry on that text message. i knew it was wrong. very wrong. but i still allowed it to happen.you can punish me. i will accept it. even if it takea losing you and living a life of </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/7354463404322443926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=7354463404322443926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/7354463404322443926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/7354463404322443926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/10/im-sorry.html' title='i&apos;m sorry'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-9216533029590159670</id><published>2007-10-04T02:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T02:52:20.809+08:00</updated><title type='text'>good fish, different caste</title><summary type='text'>It's been one and a half weeks since the great sin. It is not really what worries me, but the bloody revolution that I am expecting in a few days. And hopefully it would come and visit me.In the meantime, life has been going on as it has been. Back to chatting like regular programming. Met this guy from Washington state. A good potential. I am, however, taken aback already by men's </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/9216533029590159670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=9216533029590159670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/9216533029590159670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/9216533029590159670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/10/good-fish-different-caste.html' title='good fish, different caste'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-1877903166821783762</id><published>2007-09-20T00:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T00:50:55.588+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the great sin</title><summary type='text'>I am about to commit a sin. The great sin.I know it's wrong. A mistake. But something within me screams that I can step forward and do the great evil. Why am I weak? Why am I this vulnerable? This shouldn't be the case. I should never have opened the door of chances for this to happen.I regret that I even considered this realm of evil; but something within me screams that I should stay... at </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/1877903166821783762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=1877903166821783762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/1877903166821783762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/1877903166821783762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/09/great-sin.html' title='the great sin'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-8076041780175114591</id><published>2007-07-17T13:34:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-17T13:35:04.904+08:00</updated><title type='text'>missing you</title><summary type='text'>It's been quite some time. I'm sorry if I haven't touched you. It's just that I've been busy. Really busy. It's a riot at work and everyone seems wanting to make an impression.I will drop a longer note once I find time. Missing you.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/8076041780175114591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=8076041780175114591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/8076041780175114591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/8076041780175114591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/07/missing-you.html' title='missing you'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-6122560863671343458</id><published>2007-06-26T00:33:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T00:34:47.903+08:00</updated><title type='text'>reminded</title><summary type='text'>I accidentally glanced at my teammate's computer and saw him GTalk-ing. It hit me, again. I could have been GTalk-ing, too. And smiling and laughing and daydreaming and enjoying the feeling of being in love. Sadly, I can not do that. Not anymore.Things that remind me of him, of the lost love, just irk me. Things have to change from now on. I have to move on. I have to get my life back to where it</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/6122560863671343458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=6122560863671343458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/6122560863671343458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/6122560863671343458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/06/reminded.html' title='reminded'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-5012212587738608780</id><published>2007-04-24T22:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T22:54:58.051+08:00</updated><title type='text'>virtually heartbroken</title><summary type='text'>I am heartbroken. Well, mentally induced by pride and ego.Two weeks ago, I was chatting in this mIRC room and met this man from LA. I am just one of those and he was someone of those, at least in my eyes. He was funny. He was giving these pieces of advice to a woman, about to get married to a man she hasn't seen in person and the man is asking her sexual stuffs. His pieces of advice were nice. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/5012212587738608780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=5012212587738608780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/5012212587738608780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/5012212587738608780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/04/virtually-heartbroken.html' title='virtually heartbroken'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-5256503466803195682</id><published>2007-04-17T22:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T23:01:04.242+08:00</updated><title type='text'>meeting again</title><summary type='text'>Maaalala mo pa kaya ako? Pumangit na ako nang todo. Nakakahiya atang makipagkita sa’yo. Okay lang ban a pumangit ako? Eh dati na naman akong pangit e.Muli nilang pagkikita mula nung graduation nila nung college. Malinaw pa sa kanyang alaala ang nangyari, pitong taon na ang nakalipas. Hindi niya masabi sa harap ni Edwin, ni hindi rin sa cell phone.“I’m sorry, we have to break up.”  Message </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/5256503466803195682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=5256503466803195682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/5256503466803195682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/5256503466803195682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/04/meeting-again.html' title='meeting again'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-8356719031409474280</id><published>2007-04-13T23:09:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-18T03:31:40.940+08:00</updated><title type='text'>requited love</title><summary type='text'>He is still as adorable as he has always been. He has become professional this time, but the young look on his face is still the same. I can smell him, the same smell that he carries -- the smell of his clothes together with the skin smell. I can never forget.Spending all afternoon on the bench by the sari-sari store near campus, talking about anything, laughing at even the silliest thing we </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/8356719031409474280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=8356719031409474280' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/8356719031409474280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/8356719031409474280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/04/requited-love.html' title='requited love'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-8716646117763206798</id><published>2007-04-13T22:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T23:06:45.518+08:00</updated><title type='text'>night out</title><summary type='text'>“How many girls do you think he’ll meet tonight?” Carlo asked while looking at Manuel at the other end of the bar. “I don’t know. Uhmn… 4? Or maybe if he finishes the third bottle early, it could be 5.” Ida smiled as her eyes followed Manuel smiling unnecessarily with a girl in short skirt.                “Uhmn, at his rate now, that’s very likely.” Carlo agrees.“He sure likes girls with long </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/8716646117763206798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=8716646117763206798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/8716646117763206798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/8716646117763206798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/04/night-out.html' title='night out'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-5804642967800015204</id><published>2007-04-13T22:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T22:47:02.128+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the past by the window</title><summary type='text'>*Sabi na nga ba, dapat hindi ako pumayag na eto maging kuwarto mo. Masama implication ng mga bintana sayo.      Hindi pa rin gumagalaw si Ida sa puwesto niya. Nakaupo sa bilog na upuang gamit sa kusina. Nakapatong ang mga paa sa maliit at mababang lamesa. Nakapatong ang mga braso sa binti. Nakabukas ang tatlong bintana at nakatingin sa malayo.      Tahimik pa rin.              *Matagal nay an Ida</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/5804642967800015204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=5804642967800015204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/5804642967800015204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/5804642967800015204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/04/past-by-window.html' title='the past by the window'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-665658985920739300</id><published>2007-03-21T23:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T23:26:23.392+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ang ninakaw nilang lakas</title><summary type='text'>Dalawamput-limang taon akong nabuhay sa araw. Tumatagatak ang pawis kahit limang minuto lang sa labas. Kaya nga siguro nognog ako't wala nang pag-asa pang pumuti, kahit anong whitening lotion o sabon ang ilabas nila. Kadalasan hindi na ako komportable sa init. Ikaw ba naman pumasok sa elevator na amoy pawis? Tapos ang mga kasama mo pa nakatingin sa'yo. Eh sa wala akong kotse e. Hindi </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/665658985920739300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=665658985920739300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/665658985920739300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/665658985920739300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/03/ang-ninakaw-nilang-lakas.html' title='ang ninakaw nilang lakas'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-666496879215600791</id><published>2007-03-14T22:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-14T22:31:28.389+08:00</updated><title type='text'>company back in PH</title><summary type='text'>i just came across a thread in an online forum. i haven't browsed the Work section until this morning (due to lack of things to do!). first thing that crossed my mind was to check the posts for my previous employer. well, same as before. but it seems that more and more people are becoming unhappy with them. i should agree. i guess even if i didn't accept this graduate study, i would still be </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/666496879215600791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=666496879215600791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/666496879215600791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/666496879215600791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/03/company-back-in-ph.html' title='company back in PH'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-779921174592373045</id><published>2007-03-13T02:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T02:16:38.886+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of jay contreras and kamikazee</title><summary type='text'>Reading Jay Contreras' profile and searching if I could find more about him -- been doing that for almost four days now. I shall agree to most of the writings online, he's not like that of a drop dead gorgeous rockstar. But he is appealing. Perhaps because he's already associated with such cool songs that hit the charts.I shall say that Kamikazee songs are really nice. I love them that I am </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/779921174592373045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=779921174592373045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/779921174592373045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/779921174592373045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/03/of-jay-contreras-and-kamikazee.html' title='of jay contreras and kamikazee'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-3416193763857536764</id><published>2007-03-13T00:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T00:58:49.780+08:00</updated><title type='text'>nearly 20-10 availability</title><summary type='text'>kailangan nga bang may trabaho? well, apat na taon na lang 20-10 ka na. 97% ng male population sa age bracket mo, taken na. if not, as they'd claim, either bading or gay. isipin mo, sooner or later, mawawalan ka ng trabaho and most likely, start from junior ka.--okay lang. basta wala pa akong anak. kahit maghirap ako, oks lang. walang mamamatay sa pagbabalik ko sa junior. willing naman ako </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/3416193763857536764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=3416193763857536764' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/3416193763857536764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/3416193763857536764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/03/nearly-20-10-availability.html' title='nearly 20-10 availability'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-132088633679580145</id><published>2007-03-12T23:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T23:32:21.590+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tardy Junior Developer, Failing Student</title><summary type='text'>      And so it has started. Last weekend, I had my first midterm exam on distance learning. And I guess I was lucky to pass. It is 40% of the final grade and out of 20% in the labs, I guess I have just around 16%. My exam was bad, my labs were worse.    The letter has been written, but something holds me back. Think about it again, do you really want to send that? I shouldn’t; but I don’t want </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/132088633679580145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=132088633679580145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/132088633679580145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/132088633679580145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/03/tardy-junior-developer-failing-student.html' title='Tardy Junior Developer, Failing Student'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-6704281295157228874</id><published>2007-03-03T03:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-03T04:04:59.110+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Am I Here?</title><summary type='text'>  “I don’t want to ask something that would make you uncomfortable. You may not answer it if you don’t feel like answering it. I am just curious.”    “That’s okay. What is it?”    “Most of the foreigners that I meet; they always say that they really like to go home and that they love their home country. But, why are you here?”    I paused for a moment there. It was actually the first time I was </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/6704281295157228874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=6704281295157228874' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/6704281295157228874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/6704281295157228874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/03/why-am-i-here.html' title='Why Am I Here?'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-4365498510805844019</id><published>2007-03-01T04:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T04:41:05.177+08:00</updated><title type='text'>it's Grave's disease</title><summary type='text'>  Just got back from the endocrinologist. I honestly don’t know if it was a good news or a bad one. He said that it’s Grave’s Disease. Geez, I don’t even know what that is. He said that it has something to do with my immune system, or whatever they call it.    I must be crazy, but I somewhat like to go to the hospital. That just started here, in the US. Well, I guess because the hospitals take </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/4365498510805844019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=4365498510805844019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/4365498510805844019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/4365498510805844019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/03/its-graves-disease.html' title='it&apos;s Grave&apos;s disease'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-6600271452829700199</id><published>2007-02-20T06:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T13:35:55.957+08:00</updated><title type='text'>dragon love</title><summary type='text'>That maybe it’s just another fairy tale.      I just watched “Dragon Love” last weekend. It’s a 20-episode Chinese drama, subbed in English. I couldn’t find any Korean drama last Friday that’s why I settled with the Chinese. Watching it made me realize again how love can be that great.    It’s about this great love between a mortal and a dragon girl. As usual, the guy is this righteous noble guy </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/6600271452829700199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=6600271452829700199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/6600271452829700199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/6600271452829700199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/02/dragon-love.html' title='dragon love'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-1434191570977099613</id><published>2007-02-16T23:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T23:52:49.055+08:00</updated><title type='text'>one last time</title><summary type='text'>if i may live for another day    let me see you one last time    let me tell you how you built a house in my head    let me play the piano for you    let me look at your face endlessly   would you let me sit beside you as long as i want?    i could glory in your nearness       let me memorize your face -- your nose, your eyes, your lipswould you let me memorize your hate towards me?       smile </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/1434191570977099613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=1434191570977099613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/1434191570977099613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/1434191570977099613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/02/one-last-time.html' title='one last time'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-5057324680865793095</id><published>2007-02-16T11:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T05:16:46.845+08:00</updated><title type='text'>love triangle</title><summary type='text'>saw this while searching for lee min ki's pictures. nice, right? :)and this one, i ran across hyun bin's picture. he's cute, as always :)anyway, happy valentine's day!</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/5057324680865793095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=5057324680865793095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/5057324680865793095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/5057324680865793095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/02/love-triangle.html' title='love triangle'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6pOLpg-sTio/RdUm5XP7ZuI/AAAAAAAAAAk/8aFSQA3f-j4/s72-c/3-ironlrg3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-8168188896849330462</id><published>2007-02-15T07:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-15T08:03:29.028+08:00</updated><title type='text'>14th of February -- today is my birthday</title><summary type='text'>It’s 6:30 PM, they day will soon be over. Thinking how I spent the day, it makes me want to forget that today, is my birthday.    Today is 14th of February, 2007. This day declares my 26th year of existence. Most people celebrate their birthday with their someone special, with a cake, with candles, with a party – but unfortunately, I don’t have any of those today.    I always thought that my </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/8168188896849330462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=8168188896849330462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/8168188896849330462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/8168188896849330462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/02/14th-of-february-today-is-my-birthday.html' title='14th of February -- today is my birthday'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-4606588458436733010</id><published>2007-02-12T04:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-12T04:39:53.567+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday at 3:30 PM, longing for Tabaco</title><summary type='text'>  It’s almost 3PM. The sun is proudly showing off her shine amidst white roofs and roads. I’m just part of the audience and I think I will always be. She brings me back that warm feeling of Sunday afternoon at home.    What would I be doing right now, if I didn’t come here in the US?    Sunday afternoons in my apartment in Makati are usually hot. I would just stay at home until it’s time to go to</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/4606588458436733010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=4606588458436733010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/4606588458436733010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/4606588458436733010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/02/sunday-at-330-pm-longing-for-tabaco.html' title='Sunday at 3:30 PM, longing for Tabaco'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-5558204993974446447</id><published>2007-02-10T08:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-10T08:10:37.126+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ang napakaguwapo kong manager</title><summary type='text'>  Trust me on this, he’s HOT; as in H. O.T.  Kapag nakikita ko ang buong katawan, napapamura ako sa isip ko. Anak ng siomai na panis! Ang gwapo mo talaga! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!! Gusto kong sumigaw hanggang lumabas ang baga ko!    Bakit ba ang gwapo mo? At manager ka pa ha?! Hindi tuloy ako makatingin nang diretso sa’yo, at siyempre halata tuloy na nagagwapuhan ako sa’yo! Ano ba gagawin ko sa’yo? </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/5558204993974446447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=5558204993974446447' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/5558204993974446447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/5558204993974446447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/02/trust-me-on-this-hes-hot-as-in-h.html' title='ang napakaguwapo kong manager'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-6872895336355368589</id><published>2007-02-03T05:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-03T05:52:36.922+08:00</updated><title type='text'>finally released</title><summary type='text'>  I finally told someone what I have been keeping all along --- I still can not forget my first serious boyfriend.    I don’t know. It still scares me, just the thought of it. I have a boyfriend and we’re happy together. He’s nice, good, and faithful, but I’m having these stupid memories that haunt me and will most likely ruin my relationship with my boyfriend.  As I told her, this must have been</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/6872895336355368589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=6872895336355368589' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/6872895336355368589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/6872895336355368589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/02/finally-released.html' title='finally released'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-6828421058940935571</id><published>2007-02-02T00:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T09:40:33.050+08:00</updated><title type='text'>hitting on me</title><summary type='text'>  I must have been overly pretty yesterday (hehe, forgive me, just this time).  I took a time-off yesterday since I had to go visit the doctor. She’s the first person from PH that I’ve seen from the time I moved here to Buffalo. I said to myself, hmn, I can sleep-in on a weekday; something different from my daily routine. And so, I woke up at 8 instead of my routine of 7, washed up and got </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/6828421058940935571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=6828421058940935571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/6828421058940935571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/6828421058940935571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/02/hitting-on-me.html' title='hitting on me'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-116974183336504980</id><published>2007-01-26T00:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T00:17:13.666+08:00</updated><title type='text'>pre-recuperation; post-break up</title><summary type='text'>She found herself staring at the pieces of broken glass all over her feet. She could still hear the sound of shattering glass echoing in her ears.She has been in a state of shock since 3 days ago. The slam of the door is still fresh in her mind. The scent of broken perfume is still in the living room where she has been sitting these days.This is over!Her tears just run through her cheeks </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/116974183336504980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=116974183336504980' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116974183336504980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116974183336504980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/01/pre-recuperation-post-break-up.html' title='pre-recuperation; post-break up'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-116792442710643403</id><published>2007-01-04T23:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T11:32:14.683+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my punishment</title><summary type='text'>This is my punishment.     I leave the apartment at quarter to seven in the morning, empty with all lights turned off. Silence all over the room, even the leaking faucet in the kitchen has gone silent.    I walk on the sidewalks with hands in my pocket, blasting earphones listening to 50 Korean songs from various Korean dramas I watched. I can’t even hear the sound of cars. Neither can I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/116792442710643403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=116792442710643403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116792442710643403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116792442710643403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/01/my-punishment.html' title='my punishment'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-116775376484761506</id><published>2007-01-03T00:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T11:19:49.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my Christmas 2006</title><summary type='text'>The alarm finally cut my sleep after three attempts. I turned to my left side as the cold crept in my feet.    Gawd, it’s already bright outside.    I felt my neck and shoulders ache due to oversleep. I must have slept for 12 hours or more. I got up from bed and turned my lappie on. Then, went to the kitchen to boil water for my morning hot chocolate.    It was 25th of December at 9:30 AM. It was</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/116775376484761506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=116775376484761506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116775376484761506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116775376484761506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2007/01/my-christmas-2006.html' title='my Christmas 2006'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-116593538905875458</id><published>2006-12-12T22:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-12T22:56:29.173+08:00</updated><title type='text'>third day doesn't fit</title><summary type='text'>This is my third day. Two days ago, I didn't have my own desk. Yesterday, I didn't have my own computer and chair. Later yesterday, I finally had. As soon as I had my computer, a project was given to me. Now I'm struggling with that project.I can no longer deny. I miss Accenture. I miss the setup and the process. I am working alone here. I don't know if there is any other developer in the team. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/116593538905875458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=116593538905875458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116593538905875458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116593538905875458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/12/third-day-doesnt-fit.html' title='third day doesn&apos;t fit'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-116593522356248452</id><published>2006-12-12T22:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-16T13:49:32.910+08:00</updated><title type='text'>untitled</title><summary type='text'>Isang linggo na naman ang nakalipas. Nothing unusual happened. Well, yesterday was my first time to watch a movie here. Okay naman. The place was just odd. There were few cars parked outside the theater. There were not as many people as greenbelt. But the cinemas are nice. Nung makita ko sa labas yung cinema, kala ko Quiapo-type, pero nung pagpasok ko sa cinema mismo, okay naman. It’s not THX but</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/116593522356248452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=116593522356248452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116593522356248452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116593522356248452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/12/untitled.html' title='untitled'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-116432633490961717</id><published>2006-11-24T07:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-24T07:58:55.610+08:00</updated><title type='text'>and finally...</title><summary type='text'>So, I finally have a job. Technically yes, I have, I just haven’t started. I will leave corn fields on Saturday and will stay in a hotel in Buffalo, until I find my own apartment.  Don’t ask how excited I am. You have no idea. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/116432633490961717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=116432633490961717' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116432633490961717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116432633490961717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/11/and-finally.html' title='and finally...'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-116309507093315122</id><published>2006-11-10T01:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-10T01:57:51.646+08:00</updated><title type='text'>a professional job seeker</title><summary type='text'>    I thought it would be like what they have all been saying all along – “This is America. There are lots of jobs. You will find a job in no time.” It sounded so nice, hopeful, and encouraging. Who wouldn’t want to put his entire ass on the line for two consecutive sleepless nights before the final exam?    Courses ran one after another. I heard that they would be helpful. That I can not tell. I</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/116309507093315122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=116309507093315122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116309507093315122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116309507093315122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/11/professional-job-seeker.html' title='a professional job seeker'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-116370192868768851</id><published>2006-10-25T02:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T11:13:09.023+08:00</updated><title type='text'>how it went</title><summary type='text'>I was so scared. But I am proud enough to say that I didn't faint that time.I was discharged earlier this evening and am now here in the dorm. They gave me pills for the pain and instructions about the bandage and check up. I never thought that the illness would be as severe as this. I thought it was just an indigestion. I was having stomachache all night. I took a pain reliever thinking that it </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/116370192868768851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=116370192868768851' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116370192868768851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116370192868768851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/10/how-it-went.html' title='how it went'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-116110903673448503</id><published>2006-10-18T02:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-18T02:17:17.363+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the agony of waiting</title><summary type='text'>It’s been more than a week. I should be out of the campus by now. Perhaps, it’s the support of nature; I have been given a part-time job in the department in exchange for my accommodation. Otherwise, I might be lurking in someone else’s place, seeking for shelter.    I never thought it would be this way. I have never been worried about the place to live, until we were informed that in a week’s </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/116110903673448503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=116110903673448503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116110903673448503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/116110903673448503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/10/agony-of-waiting.html' title='the agony of waiting'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115906562236752880</id><published>2006-09-18T22:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T05:16:47.220+08:00</updated><title type='text'>that chair across mine</title><summary type='text'>I went to Taco John's yesterday night for dinner.Yeah, a Mexican restaurant.I had some mexican rice and steak.Took a table for two at the far end corner, by the window.The food was good.Felt like española.It was cold, even inside the restaurant.I looked outside.Gloomy.Rain has just abated, but I thought it would come back.Sky's gray.I gazed at my food.I gazed at the chair across mine.Empty.I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115906562236752880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115906562236752880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115906562236752880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115906562236752880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/09/that-chair-across-mine.html' title='that chair across mine'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6pOLpg-sTio/RcKbur2hA0I/AAAAAAAAAAY/_B6SVwUokLE/s72-c/IMG_0520.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115852246765374229</id><published>2006-09-18T03:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T03:47:47.776+08:00</updated><title type='text'>behind the column</title><summary type='text'>who is this girl that makes him focus?he's listening and seems analyzing.exactly what he looked like on our second date, three years ago.what if i pass by?would he notice me?nah, he wouldn't care.i saw him smiling with Anthony last week.Marla saw him in a bar 2 weeks ago.He's happy. He's living.I am still crying.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115852246765374229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115852246765374229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115852246765374229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115852246765374229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/09/behind-column.html' title='behind the column'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115852228991635487</id><published>2006-09-17T15:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T03:44:50.400+08:00</updated><title type='text'>rain watching</title><summary type='text'>    The lightning has just struck the raindrops and the thunder almost shook the entire dorm. I wonder if that reached you. I have been longing for this rain, since months ago. I guess I missed these raindrops on my windowsill. The trees must be resisting the whips of the rain with the wind -- a couple that’s terrible for weaklings but sweet for the fit. The huge maple tree right outside the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115852228991635487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115852228991635487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115852228991635487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115852228991635487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/09/rain-watching.html' title='rain watching'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115852270865730332</id><published>2006-09-15T15:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T03:51:48.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'>bar mistake</title><summary type='text'>almost 1AM.spent 2 bucks already for 8 rock songs.cold.fall's coming.should've worn sneakers.hands clasped together, inside the sweater pocket.i could sense him staring at me for more than 2 minutes now.You really like me, do you?Very much!! he replied, shyly.he laughed, as if embarrassed. grabbed me by my arm to his shoulder and damn kissed my forehead.my blood rushed to my head.wanted to </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115852270865730332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115852270865730332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115852270865730332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115852270865730332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/09/bar-mistake.html' title='bar mistake'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115852313955843551</id><published>2006-09-14T03:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T11:39:39.540+08:00</updated><title type='text'>[fiction] meeting again</title><summary type='text'>long hand nearly at 2.long sigh.maybe he forgot about it.pathetic feeling starts to sink in.should have waited for second confirmation.coffee starts to look inviting.oh, what the heck. drink it.if he's here, he's here. else, the coffee is perfect for romantic gloomy afternoons like this.the front door slammed.he looked at me, smiling and gasping.i smiled, and washed away my almost </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115852313955843551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115852313955843551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115852313955843551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115852313955843551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/09/fiction-meeting-again.html' title='[fiction] meeting again'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115782613124308576</id><published>2006-09-09T14:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-10T02:22:11.650+08:00</updated><title type='text'>aftertaste</title><summary type='text'>I gazed outside the window.Gloomy. It might rain. Cold.I placed my elbow on the table and rested my chin on my hand.Nicotine.I could still smell the nicotine on my fingers.*sighs*My stomach feels warm and empty.My mouth is bitter and dry.Last night hasn't been forgotten.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115782613124308576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115782613124308576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115782613124308576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115782613124308576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/09/aftertaste.html' title='aftertaste'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115760081228893552</id><published>2006-09-07T11:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T11:54:04.190+08:00</updated><title type='text'>[Fiction] leaving</title><summary type='text'>“States?!”        The room was filled with silence. She didn’t know what to say, despite the numerous lingering thoughts in her head.    “This is the last time.”  She was still silent, thinking about the words she just heard.        “Why?”“Hmn?” His reply, as he looked at her at the other end of the sofa, looking at the tiled flooring.            “Why do you want to do this?”“It’s the last favor </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115760081228893552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115760081228893552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115760081228893552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115760081228893552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/09/fiction-leaving.html' title='[Fiction] leaving'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115760088927318864</id><published>2006-09-04T11:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T11:48:09.386+08:00</updated><title type='text'>cruel friendship</title><summary type='text'>Don’t ever believe in men.    Don’t ever trust men, you don’t know well.       It’s good to trust people. I trusted them knowing that they’re my classmates and they wouldn’t betray me.     But, I was wrong. Completely wrong.     I thought that our friendship was something I could treasure, but they tried to take advantage of it.     He said that it was romance, and I tried to believe it was, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115760088927318864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115760088927318864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115760088927318864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115760088927318864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/09/cruel-friendship.html' title='cruel friendship'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115707792463765739</id><published>2006-09-01T10:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T10:34:22.720+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my concept...</title><summary type='text'>The cutie, playful, and adventurous...The sweet and romantic ...The tough and ill-tempered ...all these, rolled into one :)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115707792463765739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115707792463765739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115707792463765739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115707792463765739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-concept.html' title='my concept...'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115692447150884713</id><published>2006-08-30T15:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T15:59:20.186+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my concept of ideal man</title><summary type='text'>    Watching these romantic Korean movies reminds me of romance that I feel have been missing for the past years. Yes, I have a boyfriend, but sadly, relationships that have passed the beginning stages usually lose the thing called romantic kicks. And more importantly, perhaps it is just misfortune for me not to have such so-romantic boyfriend. It is, nevertheless, not sufficient enough to lose </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115692447150884713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115692447150884713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115692447150884713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115692447150884713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/08/my-concept-of-ideal-man.html' title='my concept of ideal man'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115692201401714076</id><published>2006-08-30T15:12:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T16:02:34.193+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of Korean movies and that kiss</title><summary type='text'>This RC is taking me to Korean movies. Hehe. Since I had nothing much to do these week, taking RC, I have been watching (and downloading) Korean movies. I am telling you, I just realized how Koreans can be very attractive.    I was addicted to “A Moment to Remember”. A story of a tough architect guy who fell in love with a very feminine and submissive office girl. I just loved the image of the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115692201401714076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115692201401714076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115692201401714076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115692201401714076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/08/of-korean-movies-and-that-kiss.html' title='of Korean movies and that kiss'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115692195858486045</id><published>2006-08-30T15:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T15:12:38.716+08:00</updated><title type='text'>RC</title><summary type='text'>This week has been pretty unusual for me. I’ve never had this experience in my life, never. They call this Research in Consciousness course or simply RC. The primary purpose of the course is for the students to get a full rest. As they call it, pulling the arrow back, ready to fire. What we actually do is to stay in the meditation hall together, and then watch Maharishi videos about </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115692195858486045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115692195858486045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115692195858486045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115692195858486045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/08/rc.html' title='RC'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115692191258832131</id><published>2006-08-16T15:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T15:24:12.136+08:00</updated><title type='text'>that day</title><summary type='text'>It is hard. Most people, especially men, think that it is hard for them, but I guess they are missing the point that it is hard for us, as well. In less than a month, I might be shaking someone’s life with my decision. I have not told him, yet; neither have I given him a clue about it. But with my avoidance for the past few days, I hope he already has an idea about it and is gradually trying to </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115692191258832131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115692191258832131' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115692191258832131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115692191258832131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/08/that-day.html' title='that day'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115692185958532316</id><published>2006-08-14T15:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T15:11:00.356+08:00</updated><title type='text'>there is no romance</title><summary type='text'>  I still can’t understand why. Maybe because I long for the company that I can not have from my boyfriend. This long distance relationship just makes things complicated and consequently, bad. I know you are a good man. Well, you are okay. In fact, for older women, you can be the best partner that they are looking for. But, honestly, for me, something else is missing. Something else that can not </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115692185958532316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115692185958532316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115692185958532316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115692185958532316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/08/there-is-no-romance.html' title='there is no romance'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115488428884672390</id><published>2006-08-06T12:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-07T01:11:29.083+08:00</updated><title type='text'>putang ina talaga</title><summary type='text'>I can’t remember the last time that I was like this. But, I am certain that I had this feeling before. And I think most people also experience this.I hate myself. I hate myself twice. I am so mad at myself.I missed one major question in the question when I knew where I could specifically find the answer. Gademit. Why didn’t I read that slide?Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck me.I could swear the whole day </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115488428884672390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115488428884672390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115488428884672390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115488428884672390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/08/putang-ina-talaga.html' title='putang ina talaga'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115337589031424982</id><published>2006-07-19T13:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-20T14:20:45.293+08:00</updated><title type='text'>pleasure on someone else's misery</title><summary type='text'>I was again, irritated. But it was my fault, anyway. I opened up the thing and she was again, VERY VERY VERY eager to know. You should imagine someone jogging for hours and then listening to directions on how to find water. She looked like a hungry dog waiting for food. Damn.I know this is really bad of me, but what the heck, I’ll tell the story because it really made me mad.Yesterday, we drank. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115337589031424982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115337589031424982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115337589031424982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115337589031424982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/07/pleasure-on-someone-elses-misery.html' title='pleasure on someone else&apos;s misery'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115182592965262484</id><published>2006-07-02T15:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-02T15:38:49.960+08:00</updated><title type='text'>an incomplete letter to FA</title><summary type='text'>I'm not sure. I see him almost everyday. In class. At the dining hall. In fast foods. On my way somewhere. But I never noticed him, until today.Most of the girls might not probably like him. He is the bad boy kind. He skips class. He never wears formal dresses. Well, I only saw him wear long sleeves and slacks, once. It was the day of our final exam when our teacher told us that if we would wear </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115182592965262484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115182592965262484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115182592965262484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115182592965262484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/07/incomplete-letter-to-fa.html' title='an incomplete letter to FA'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-115138798096028423</id><published>2006-06-27T01:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-27T14:02:21.166+08:00</updated><title type='text'>you will not get a job!</title><summary type='text'>Dear Dr. E,I am writing to express my thoughts regarding the incident that happened yesterday, during the meeting with the February 2006 batch of Compro students. I understand that the way I sat is unacceptable during an interview. However, I want to say that it was an embarrassing incident for me. And I guess that I should take it as one of the bad lucks that came into my way, being seated that </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/115138798096028423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=115138798096028423' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115138798096028423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/115138798096028423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/06/you-will-not-get-job.html' title='you will not get a job!'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114965635218560080</id><published>2006-06-07T00:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-07T12:59:12.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'>love and cultural borders</title><summary type='text'>i thought that cultural differences were superficial. they are just there for the sake of knowing, but they don't really happen. well, i seldom believe something that i have not seen nor experienced. and now that i am experiencing it, i guess i have been proven wrong.i am in a multi-cultural environment, which includes african, american, asian, and european cultures. it all started when we were </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114965635218560080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114965635218560080' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114965635218560080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114965635218560080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/06/love-and-cultural-borders.html' title='love and cultural borders'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114948548411944798</id><published>2006-06-05T00:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-20T07:36:20.206+08:00</updated><title type='text'>[fiction] i am yours now</title><summary type='text'>It was one sunny Saturday morning. I was rushing to leave the house and grab my car. I was already late.“Dina, 11AM sharp. Okay?”Those were the words ringing in my head while I was fixing my hair. I slipped on my casual shoes, ran to my car and drove as fast as I could to the place.Restaurant in a corner in town, 15-20-minute drive from my place. He could already be there. I did not bother to </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114948548411944798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114948548411944798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114948548411944798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114948548411944798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/06/fiction-i-am-yours-now.html' title='[fiction] i am yours now'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114948111671387158</id><published>2006-06-04T23:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-06T07:39:45.516+08:00</updated><title type='text'>please stay here</title><summary type='text'>The day was not as wonderful as I dreamt it to be, but it was wonderful nonetheless. We walked from the dining hall, where we met, to the lake, passing by the recreation center. You were wearing your usual awkward-to-look-at jogging pants and sweater, despite the hot weather. I was wearing thin cargo pants and a t-shirt. You were serious, as you have always been, and I was just smiling.We walked </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114948111671387158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114948111671387158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114948111671387158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114948111671387158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/06/please-stay-here.html' title='please stay here'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114896419101453462</id><published>2006-05-23T12:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-06T07:37:49.350+08:00</updated><title type='text'>OA ka na talaga</title><summary type='text'>OA ka na talaga. Akala ko dati talagang pressure lang yang nakakapataranta sayo. Pero ngayon, OA ka na. Promise.Hindi ko alam kung ano talaga ang gusto mo. Nung una, sabi mo basta lang makapasa ka, OK na yun. Di nakapasa nga tayo. Masaya. Tapos nung sumunod na exam, highest tayo, tapos pumalag ka. Sabi mo, mali yung yung score mo, hindi ka perfect. Ano ba talaga? Takot ka sa responsibility ng </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114896419101453462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114896419101453462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114896419101453462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114896419101453462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/05/oa-ka-na-talaga.html' title='OA ka na talaga'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114783758149240359</id><published>2006-05-15T03:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-17T11:48:39.906+08:00</updated><title type='text'>almost asleep</title><summary type='text'>I was almost asleep. I am certain it was you. I could still perfectly remember your face waiting for me downstairs by the main entrance of this dorm. You were wearing your regular loose denims and your usual pullover. You were smiling as I approached your car. Smiling as if everything was just a joke and both of us were kidding. I was kidding. It was a joke, almost everything was a joke except </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114783758149240359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114783758149240359' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114783758149240359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114783758149240359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/05/almost-asleep.html' title='almost asleep'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114669485531298876</id><published>2006-05-02T06:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T06:24:48.363+08:00</updated><title type='text'>you only get quality education at MUM, BY CHANCE</title><summary type='text'>I am writing to express my disheartening experience in studying at this university. If I only had the courage to leave, I could have done it long before. I travelled halfway across the globe to seek for the education that I have been dreaming since I finished my undergraduate study. And my parents have given all the support they could give to send me to a graduate study. I applied to a number of </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114669485531298876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114669485531298876' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114669485531298876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114669485531298876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/05/you-only-get-quality-education-at-mum.html' title='you only get quality education at MUM, BY CHANCE'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114590136684892886</id><published>2006-04-25T01:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T12:44:35.636+08:00</updated><title type='text'>extreme disappointment</title><summary type='text'> i'm here in the lab, tinkering this keyboard with the thoughts that linger in my mind. i'm not sure if i'm mad. i'm not sure if am furious. i am, however, certain that i am extremely disappointed.i thought that it will be okay. i thought that everything will be fine. perhaps, this is an ego thing for me again. something that i have done and was expecting for a quid pro quo. i know i shouldn't.i </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114590136684892886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114590136684892886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114590136684892886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114590136684892886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/04/extreme-disappointment.html' title='extreme disappointment'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114585355532645222</id><published>2006-04-24T12:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T12:39:15.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'>that exam</title><summary type='text'>just dropping by to update what happened to that terrible exam...  hihihi... i got 102!!!!! oh my God!!!!!!! i can't believe it! aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!! whew! but i am certain that i can not be perfect in that exam. i am certain about that. i just don't know what our teacher did with the scores that resulted that way. in fact, most of us in the class were not expecting </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114585355532645222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114585355532645222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114585355532645222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114585355532645222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/04/that-exam.html' title='that exam'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114585961756387114</id><published>2006-04-23T14:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T13:13:35.186+08:00</updated><title type='text'>cultural clash</title><summary type='text'>It was a very uncomfortable situation. I still couldn't believe that it happened. I felt that I was in the worst place.It was a perfect afternoon. The weather was great. We were on our best moods. I was with my female friend and a male friend. We went to the lake for a picnic. I laid down the blanket and we rested on that blanket, eating chips, drinking Pepsi, peanuts... perfect.Almost.After 2 or</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114585961756387114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114585961756387114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114585961756387114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114585961756387114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/04/cultural-clash.html' title='cultural clash'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114584854517700213</id><published>2006-04-22T11:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T12:09:17.853+08:00</updated><title type='text'>a perfect get-together</title><summary type='text'>It was one of those perfect afternoons. I was informed by one of my fellow dormers the night before, that there will be a party for our batch. I was excited that I would have something to do the following day. It was an after-course break. Just a short one, a long weekend. Saturday morning at around 930AM, I woke up to take a bath. We were scheduled to leave the dorm at around 11-1130AM. I was </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114584854517700213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114584854517700213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114584854517700213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114584854517700213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/04/perfect-get-together.html' title='a perfect get-together'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114584562501045094</id><published>2006-04-20T10:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T12:18:01.916+08:00</updated><title type='text'>a terrible exam</title><summary type='text'>I am still trying to catch my regular breathing. I was not able to eat my lunch. It was supposed to be a good lunch. I had noodles on my plate with tomato sauce, just like a mediocre spaghetti at the store nearby. It looked good. It looked delicious together with a glass of soy milk and an apple. But it remained exactly as it was when I took it from the buffer bar, until it reached the trash </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114584562501045094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114584562501045094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114584562501045094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114584562501045094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/04/terrible-exam.html' title='a terrible exam'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114490580209583417</id><published>2006-04-13T13:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T13:33:50.140+08:00</updated><title type='text'>unfinished lunch</title><summary type='text'>My plate was dull, as always. I pushed the beans to the side and started tinkering the grated cheese. There was nothing else good to eat, but hunger never crossed my stomach (hehe). I was more busy listening to you as you spoke, then finding ways to at least have something to eat. 37 minutes past noon. The dining hall seemed seemed like a market that noon. But it was never crowded for me to find </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114490580209583417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114490580209583417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114490580209583417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114490580209583417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/04/unfinished-lunch.html' title='unfinished lunch'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114452313231384304</id><published>2006-04-09T03:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T13:35:04.170+08:00</updated><title type='text'>hindi kita puwedeng matipuhan</title><summary type='text'>Sana okay na. Isang linggo na rin ang nakalipas. Hindi kita nakita. Sinubukan ko ring huwag kang isipin at umasang makakalimutan ka. Nagtagumpay siguro ako sa una, pero sa huli, mukhang imposible. Bukas, babalik ka na. Maririnig ko na naman ang mga biro mo, na kahit para sa buong barkada, natatawa ako't pakiramdam ko natutuwa ang mundo ko. Ewan ko, hindi ko alam kung bakit. Hindi naman talaga </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114452313231384304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114452313231384304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114452313231384304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114452313231384304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/04/hindi-kita-puwedeng-matipuhan.html' title='hindi kita puwedeng matipuhan'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114418249822426445</id><published>2006-04-04T15:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T13:38:20.560+08:00</updated><title type='text'>tuesday mid-afternoon</title><summary type='text'> It's two thirty in the afternoon and the sun is blazing outside. Today is the third day of our spring break and I'm spending the afternoon in some sort of cafe near the square. My friend said that this is the best cafe in town, so far. It's fine. But of course there can be anything else better than Starbucks. Greenbelt. ELJ. 6750. How can I ever forget those? The town has gone a little bit </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114418249822426445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114418249822426445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114418249822426445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114418249822426445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/04/tuesday-mid-afternoon.html' title='tuesday mid-afternoon'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114396493319006513</id><published>2006-04-02T14:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T13:42:15.190+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i want to get rid of this, help me</title><summary type='text'>Maybe you already know. My other friend knows. Maybe you also do. Yeah, maybe you do. But what can I do? It's what I feel. It's what my heart tells me. It's what drives me.I hate this. I hate myself for feeling this. I hate myself for bringing me this unwanted feeling. I want to get rid of this because I know this is wrong. I know that this can never be right. But what? I can no longer feel at </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114396493319006513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114396493319006513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114396493319006513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114396493319006513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-want-to-get-rid-of-this-help-me.html' title='i want to get rid of this, help me'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114447469949058021</id><published>2006-04-02T13:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-08T13:38:19.723+08:00</updated><title type='text'>midterm!</title><summary type='text'>just dropping by to say that ... i perfected the midterm exam... yahu!!!! and guess what, i am the only student in our batch who perfected it!!! yahuu again!!! aaahhh... no i can sleep all day!!</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114447469949058021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114447469949058021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114447469949058021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114447469949058021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/04/midterm.html' title='midterm!'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114343909810617320</id><published>2006-03-27T00:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-27T14:13:14.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i shall admit</title><summary type='text'>You must have already seen. You must have already felt it, somehow. I shall admit it.I admit that beneath my silence and smiles, is a growing feeling that leaves me speechless, but smiling.I admit that I look at your face, not because I am speaking with you and I want to completely understand what you are trying to tell me, but because I want to look at your face when you speak. I want to </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114343909810617320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114343909810617320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114343909810617320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114343909810617320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-shall-admit.html' title='i shall admit'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114318119583811397</id><published>2006-03-24T14:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-27T14:10:06.093+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the man i used to hate, now my anh(?)</title><summary type='text'>You asked me to say "i love you" in my own language. I felt awkward to say it to you. I almost didn't want to. Not because it hits me, but because in a way or another, something is not growing right. I used to hate you for being so blunt and tactless. For calling me "slow" and I was offended. To the point that I didn't want to talk to you, and even see you. I wanted to avoid you. You offended me.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114318119583811397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114318119583811397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114318119583811397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114318119583811397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/03/man-i-used-to-hate-now-my-anh.html' title='the man i used to hate, now my anh(?)'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114283608563234576</id><published>2006-03-20T00:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-20T14:28:05.656+08:00</updated><title type='text'>spacebar ko :(</title><summary type='text'>Nakikiusap naman ako sayo. Huwag ka na pong magloko. Hindi ko alam kung ano ang puwede kong gawin para maayos ka. Magsisimula pa lang ang lahat, pero bakit ganito ka? May mali ba akong nagawa sayo? Sana marinig mo ako. Kung meron man akong maling nagawa sayo, sana patawarin mo na ako. Huwag mo lang akong pahirapan nang ganito. Huwag mo lang akong pag-alalahin nang ganito. Hindi ko maisip ang </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114283608563234576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114283608563234576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114283608563234576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114283608563234576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/03/spacebar-ko.html' title='spacebar ko :('/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114318059432254191</id><published>2006-03-17T14:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-27T14:04:14.786+08:00</updated><title type='text'>beer-sickness</title><summary type='text'> Huwag mo akong iwan. Samahan mo ako sa aking kalungkutan. Mag-isa lang ako rito. Sa kuwarto, nakahiga, nagbabasa ng libro. Nakailang ulit na nga ako ng libro na yun e. Kadalasan, kandong ko ang kaibigan ko. Nag-uusap kami. Kung anu-ano – tungkol sa buhay, sa plano, sa bansa ko, sa pamilya ko... minsan nga nababanggit ka namin sa usapan. Gusto ko lang makita ka. Malaman kung sino ka, kahit kilala</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114318059432254191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114318059432254191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114318059432254191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114318059432254191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/03/beer-sickness.html' title='beer-sickness'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114318030371898068</id><published>2006-03-17T14:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T14:05:03.736+08:00</updated><title type='text'>smirnoff ice</title><summary type='text'>I finally bought it. Since I took a glance of that white bottle at Walmart, I longed for its taste. I visited him in every chance I got just to see him... have another glance of him. I knew he wants to be with me too, just as much as I want to have him.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114318030371898068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114318030371898068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114318030371898068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114318030371898068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/03/smirnoff-ice.html' title='smirnoff ice'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114230627959895480</id><published>2006-03-13T20:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-27T14:02:10.103+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i am stupid. dumb.</title><summary type='text'>I just made a fool of myself again. I don't know why. Maybe I'm trying to prove something to myself that I can correct the foolishness I did before; that I can cover up for what was already done. But I just made things worse. Stupid. Dumb.One of the things I learned from my previous job is not to say “bobo” or “tanga” to other people, because I know exactly what it feels. Been there. I had to </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114230627959895480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114230627959895480' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114230627959895480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114230627959895480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-am-stupid-dumb.html' title='i am stupid. dumb.'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114099533433333932</id><published>2006-02-26T16:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T07:11:40.043+08:00</updated><title type='text'>sabi nga sa dati kong pinagtatrabahuhan...</title><summary type='text'>Lahat naman tayo nahihirapan dito. Lahat tayo dumadaan sa tinatawag nilang period of adjustment. Ako mismo dumadaan ngayon sa problema ng intimidasyon. Gusto kong tulungan ka, pero por Diyos y por santo, hindi ka bata para subuan ka pa. Hindi ako pumunta rito para mag-alaga ng bata at subuan siya sa lahat ng pagkakataon. Minsan lumalabas rin ang pagka-demonyo ko. Totoo ang sabi John Bridger (</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114099533433333932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114099533433333932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114099533433333932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114099533433333932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/02/sabi-nga-sa-dati-kong.html' title='sabi nga sa dati kong pinagtatrabahuhan...'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114099513203916966</id><published>2006-02-26T15:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T13:49:47.806+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the lake nearby</title><summary type='text'>It is a good day. It's 2PM of Sunday afternoon and much has happened already, not just physically but internally. I went for breakfast this morning, alone. The sun was shining and it wasn't very windy. The weather was really fine, which made me thought, why not go to that lake that they're talking about? Yeah, I was alone and thought of going there myself, even if I didn't know where the lake </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114099513203916966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114099513203916966' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114099513203916966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114099513203916966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/02/lake-nearby.html' title='the lake nearby'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114021025759869993</id><published>2006-02-17T15:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-18T05:16:45.263+08:00</updated><title type='text'>battle of the brains</title><summary type='text'>It is different. It is hard. It is a challenge.I used to be passive back in my academic years. As I told my friend, to understand what is being taught and to know the answer are enough to survive. Teachers usually include recitation in the computation of grades, but for me it was just an added value. An added value that I opted not to take and I was settled with that.  But not now... not here.As </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114021025759869993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114021025759869993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114021025759869993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114021025759869993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/02/battle-of-brains.html' title='battle of the brains'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-114020779640511825</id><published>2006-02-17T14:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-18T04:46:07.286+08:00</updated><title type='text'>new place, same spirit</title><summary type='text'>I should be sorry for not being able to write updates. It doesn't mean that I do not have much to say. In fact, I have many, only that I couldn't find the perfect time to put them into writing. And now I am just stealing some time from what I am supposed to be doing, to have some of the things written.I am now here in the eastern part of the globe – where there are no more jeepneys and tricycles,</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/114020779640511825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=114020779640511825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114020779640511825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/114020779640511825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/02/new-place-same-spirit.html' title='new place, same spirit'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-113881185635438666</id><published>2006-02-01T23:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-02T01:24:59.030+08:00</updated><title type='text'>another glimpse of him</title><summary type='text'>I am stalking a man... almost. Don't get me wrong for being too much into him. I honestly don't know and I can not tell why exactly I am behaving like this. Maybe, because of the thrill... and of the mystery behind him, of not knowing who he is and of knowing just a fraction about him.I met him through one of the stereotypical ways the society has somehow exhibited, but in an unusual way for me –</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/113881185635438666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=113881185635438666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113881185635438666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113881185635438666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/02/another-glimpse-of-him.html' title='another glimpse of him'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-113847546936265023</id><published>2006-01-29T03:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-30T02:10:12.896+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i saw him, again</title><summary type='text'>Early this evening, I saw him again.I was on my way to the church to hear mass and was already late. I was supposed to hear the anticipated mass at 6PM, but left the house at around 610. I was late, very late.I ran out of the house as soon as I finished dressing up, then waited for a tricycle by the road. I took the first tricycle that passed by and was so anxious to reach the church. I didn't </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/113847546936265023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=113847546936265023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113847546936265023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113847546936265023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-saw-him-again.html' title='i saw him, again'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-113838411348951663</id><published>2006-01-27T11:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-28T02:07:19.713+08:00</updated><title type='text'>it's hard to be left behind, but harder to leave someone behind</title><summary type='text'>I used to feel great to be home. I used to be excited going home. I had always wanted to be here, in the province, with my family. But, last time ... I felt otherwise.I arrived here last night, and it would be the last time that I would travel from Makati to Bicol. I am not sure if that would ever happen again, and if it would, I do not know when. All I know right now is that it would take long </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/113838411348951663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=113838411348951663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113838411348951663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113838411348951663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/01/its-hard-to-be-left-behind-but-harder.html' title='it&apos;s hard to be left behind, but harder to leave someone behind'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-113830393322811148</id><published>2006-01-27T00:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-30T02:24:46.030+08:00</updated><title type='text'>last day with my team mates</title><summary type='text'>It's been days since I last set my foot on Accenture premises. I am no longer part of that company, technically. But, I feel otherwise.January 20 was my last working day. I barely felt that it was my last day. It was too hectic and bombarded with tasks. I even told my team mate how ironic it was when in the last few months of last year, we didn't have much to do and then when I was about to leave</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/113830393322811148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=113830393322811148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113830393322811148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113830393322811148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/01/last-day-with-my-team-mates.html' title='last day with my team mates'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-113747378994619121</id><published>2006-01-15T12:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-17T13:03:16.946+08:00</updated><title type='text'>(B)ad (I)xperience</title><summary type='text'>Sometimes I wish I had done something better than what I actually did. I still feel bad about the experience that I had at the bureau.         It was last Friday, the 13th. I had a beering session with my friends the night before, so I decided that since I still have so many SLs at the office, I would take one. I was on SL that day and thought that it would also be the best time for me to get the</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/113747378994619121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=113747378994619121' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113747378994619121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113747378994619121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/01/bad-ixperience.html' title='(B)ad (I)xperience'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-113747355278239341</id><published>2006-01-15T03:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-17T13:01:44.006+08:00</updated><title type='text'>sentimental sessions</title><summary type='text'>I have thought about this, somehow expecting, as well. It's in fact one of the reasons why I have always avoided conversations about it or even leading to it, since I knew about this matter of leaving.        I first knew it last October. I hid it from my friends. I opted not to go with them on night-outs, as I knew that I would say it when I get drunk. And it did, really happen.       On the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/113747355278239341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=113747355278239341' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113747355278239341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113747355278239341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/01/sentimental-sessions.html' title='sentimental sessions'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-113698428108056530</id><published>2006-01-11T02:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-11T21:01:22.943+08:00</updated><title type='text'>resignation spread</title><summary type='text'>Japanese would give up their lives for honor. Americans would kill for freedom. Some Filipinos could die of envy.        I knew this is going to happen. I knew it from the moment I submitted my resignation letter. It is predicatable,  it is what they do, it is what makes them happy, I suppose.        As accustomed, any resignation from the company, as early as its planning stage – people swarm to</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/113698428108056530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=113698428108056530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113698428108056530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113698428108056530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/01/resignation-spread.html' title='resignation spread'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-113636184258404249</id><published>2006-01-02T22:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T13:16:07.133+08:00</updated><title type='text'>facing 2006</title><summary type='text'>It's new year. Many faced it with a bang, some faced it with a meal... I, faced it with a prayer and a view of the outside.         Three hours before 12AM of January 1, 2006 – my sister, together with her 2 kids, and I had our dinner. Our parents then were still busy outside discussing, as usual, matters about people, business, our family, other families, and other people's business. Those are </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/113636184258404249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=113636184258404249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113636184258404249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113636184258404249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2006/01/facing-2006.html' title='facing 2006'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-113600658421589477</id><published>2005-12-31T07:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-03T19:50:43.470+08:00</updated><title type='text'>a night of fun and of him</title><summary type='text'>We never planned it. It was an oddly exhausting day for us here at home, especially for me and my sister. We woke up late and thought that the day would just come just like any ordinary day. But, as soon as we finished lunch, things to do started to fall in line.The technician came and we had to assist him on which to do first and other relevant etcetera. Afterwards, we saw the desktop here at </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/113600658421589477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=113600658421589477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113600658421589477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113600658421589477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2005/12/night-of-fun-and-of-him.html' title='a night of fun and of him'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-113563480356147565</id><published>2005-12-27T23:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-31T13:52:26.566+08:00</updated><title type='text'>first meeting</title><summary type='text'>I was with a man. A man, who I just met for the first time, since I talked with him 6 months ago. I was nervous. I couldn't exactly understand why, but I was. I terribly was nervous.11AMI stood in front of the Bigg's Diner, where we were supposed to meet. It was already our meeting time. I stood for a couple of minutes until I felt awkward standing there for, who knows.I decided to enter the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/113563480356147565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=113563480356147565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113563480356147565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113563480356147565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2005/12/first-meeting.html' title='first meeting'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-113552901914913947</id><published>2005-12-26T00:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-31T13:31:18.430+08:00</updated><title type='text'>batch outing</title><summary type='text'>It's been two days, since I've been here. The weather hasn't been cooperating. It has been raining and if not, the clouds seem disappointed with all its thickness surrounding Mayon and the green hills in the north.I still can't grasp that feeling that soon, I will leave this place, indefinitely. I do not exactly know what awaits me in another land in February. All I know is that in the next two </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/113552901914913947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=113552901914913947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113552901914913947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113552901914913947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2005/12/batch-outing.html' title='batch outing'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-113546329995883467</id><published>2005-12-23T04:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-25T06:49:23.416+08:00</updated><title type='text'>notice sent</title><summary type='text'>I submitted my resignation letter, two days ago. It was so fast that I never had the moment to make a final thought about the decision. It just happened so quickly and I seemed to had moved accordingly.I reviewed all my on-going contracts with the company three days ago. I also consulted my manager about the contracts to confirm that I am looking at the significant points correctly. And yes, it </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/113546329995883467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=113546329995883467' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113546329995883467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113546329995883467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2005/12/notice-sent.html' title='notice sent'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13504942.post-113514875366122422</id><published>2005-12-18T15:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-31T13:56:28.846+08:00</updated><title type='text'>how soon could it be</title><summary type='text'>Perfect afternoons come more often these days. Maybe it's because of the season or maybe because I have just been home for the past few days. &lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;I couldn't let every perfect mid-afternoon pass. I had to take even just a shot – the swaying plans, the chirping chimes, the silence of the wind, and the serenity of the moment. I felt like I was the only person staring at the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/feeds/113514875366122422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13504942&amp;postID=113514875366122422' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113514875366122422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13504942/posts/default/113514875366122422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fracturedfingertips.blogspot.com/2005/12/how-soon-could-it-be.html' title='how soon could it be'/><author><name>fracturedfingertips</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04330762799067598485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
