<?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-8844721231850466894</id><updated>2012-01-02T02:41:22.491-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cities built on sand ∞</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-6836638539425432312</id><published>2012-01-01T22:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T02:41:22.497-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cut me, Mich.</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I often imagine how people would react to my death . What would they feel if one day I was gone? Will they be miserable? Will they exult? I'll certainly not figure out the answer to this question .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I thought about that in a time where demise would be the easiest and simplest retort . I was out of my mind, trapped in my own infinity of hitches . I could have stayed there a little longer if I wanted to, but I knew that life has to go on . I have to keep on going and continue the way of life . I have to be strong enough to get on going . When the going gets tough, I have to be tough as well .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; I do not know if I should be sharing my private problems here, because it doesn't sound so decent, so I won't . Well maybe I'll tell you some tip-offs, but I still wouldn't tell exactly what happened or who was with me that time . Here are some words that would give you some ideas: Classmate, Almost killed, Reason = Me . I guess that's enough for you to have a context of my own problem . That is where I could relate the quote, "When the going gets tough, the tough get going". I made myself tough enough to undergo the problem that I made, and by that I made clear of myself that only if I would be bold enough to face my difficulties, that's where I would be able to surpass them all .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-6836638539425432312?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/6836638539425432312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/6836638539425432312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2012/01/cut-me-mich.html' title='Cut me, Mich.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-3152733283677864851</id><published>2011-12-03T18:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T00:35:28.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jet Lag.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now and live in it forever."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;That doesn't do anything with math, but at least it has something to do with the day of the math festival . That day turned out to be one of the days I'd never forget in my entire young life . Maybe even the weeks before that day are actually a part as well of the memorable event . Those weeks include the preparations, practices, and a lot more . It would be interesting if I'd include them in this entry, but eventually I'm in a rush, so I won't =))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;It was Tuesday, November 29, when the Math Fest was held . In the morning was the presentation of the candidates of the Kings and Queens . I am a candidate for that, so I did my part . Introducing myself in front of a crowd, forgetting some lines about myself because of nervousness, nothing new . And by the way, Vanessa was my partner for that event, and she was great . But I wondered where my partner could be .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;At about lunch time, my partner for the G. at Bb. Sipnayan came to our room . She's no other than my best friend, Jam Pagtakhan . :) She was wearing those curling things on her hair when she came . We stayed in our room for a while and then we've decided to go the parlor to remove the crap on her hair . I was kinda bored while waiting for her to finish, but I was patient .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Lunch time, I was getting excited . I know that I should've been nervous that time, but I wasn't . Maybe it's because of Jam's presence . I always feel comfortable and happy with her . Share . And of course, who'd be nervous if you're with your best pal? We helped each other overcome our nervousness that day .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;After lunch was the time for the main program of the Math Fest. My partner and I were a bit late, because of too much preparations . And too much make-up :)) The math jingle contest was first, then the G. at Bb. Sipnayan right after . Oh and the Singing Mathematician was also in time with the latter .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Everything happened just right . We just rode with flow of luck, and a bit of love . Jam did very good that day . Her talent, her dress, her hair, everything was beautiful . She's beautiful . I never regretted having the person I love as my partner . They said that everything that we did on that day was natural . No need to exert efforts of sweetness because it comes on both of us naturally, they say . It was love that made us succeed that day . And it was also love that made me smile from that day up until now . It was love that made that day a very special day . I love you Jam :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-usuJtAYcA94/TtsvHRr6tDI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/KGcjEXu7DYc/s1600/wallpaper.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="177" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-usuJtAYcA94/TtsvHRr6tDI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/KGcjEXu7DYc/s400/wallpaper.jpeg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-3152733283677864851?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/3152733283677864851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/3152733283677864851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-wish-i-could-freeze-this-moment-right.html' title='Jet Lag.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-usuJtAYcA94/TtsvHRr6tDI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/KGcjEXu7DYc/s72-c/wallpaper.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-5993319159702056032</id><published>2011-11-20T05:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-20T05:54:43.995-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If I were a nymph.</title><content type='html'>Dear&amp;nbsp;Shepherd,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;First and foremost, I would like to thank you for those words of&amp;nbsp;kindness&amp;nbsp;and love . Those beautiful phrases full of extravagant promises and riches you'd like to give me, are very pleasing to hear . But what's ironic is that even though I am taken away by your playful lines, I do not, and I would not even, dare to believe in them . I'm sorry to say, but I'm not the type of creature who is easily fooled or made-believe by a human like you . Us nymphs are intelligent creatures, and we do respect our dignity . I know that maybe you are really ready and willing to give me all of those flowers, gowns, slippers, belts and more, but I just could not accept your offer . I'm very sorry .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;If you are currently thinking why, I am ready to give reasons . First of all, we are not of the same race . It would be hard to accept the fact that a small living thing like me would have fallen in love with a creature who is a hundred times bigger than my size . Funny, but extremely true . Secondly, I have already imprinted with a nymph like me . I am truly in love with him . I'm sorry, but what you want us to be, or your plans for us, is just a big no to me . I would appreciate it more if you just forget about me . Think that I do not exist . Think that you have never met someone like me . I&amp;nbsp;assure&amp;nbsp;you, it would ease the pain you're feeling right now .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I wouldn't mind us being friends, but it'd be better if you just let go . Release the memory of me, find a girl, love her, make her happy like what you want me to be . I wish you a happy life .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Truly yours,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Nymph&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-5993319159702056032?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/5993319159702056032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/5993319159702056032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/11/if-i-were-nymph.html' title='If I were a nymph.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-5457043976241113080</id><published>2011-11-17T17:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-19T04:52:14.098-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A daydream away.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"I am this morning electric ."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;The day we've all waited has come . Studying at Science High School for almost 3 years, this was the first time that we had a proper and official&amp;nbsp;field-trip&amp;nbsp;. Imagine, my&amp;nbsp;batch-mates&amp;nbsp;and I haven't experienced trips since our first year of high school . That's why this year's field-trip is very special to us . That day is a day to remember .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I woke up past 3:00 in the morning . I woke up in another room, my classmate's room . Pretty cool, I'd say, to have a sleep over on the day before your field-trip . It kinda levels-up the fun and excitement . So it was Thursday when I slept at Frann's house, and it was Friday when it was our trip . A perfect date for our field-trip . You know why? Well it was exactly on November 11, 2011 . Some say that that day would be full of good and bad omens, I'd say it was&amp;nbsp;jam-packed&amp;nbsp;with good ones .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Setting aside the date thingy, I enjoyed my short stay at Frann's house . I wouldn't blabber out much more about that, but instead I'll share about the trip .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;5:00 in the morning, everyone's already getting ready . Students chatting, some are arriving, everyone was busy and excited .At about 5:30, I think, everyone filled the buses . I do not know how many buses were there, but there were a lot . Our section, together with III-Oxygen, rode at bus 7 . I don't know what time we departed . And who needs to know the time when they're having fun anyway .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;As we moved, our bus&amp;nbsp;tour-guide introduced himself . His name was Jimmy . On the way he discussed some things, rules, and some fun facts about the places we're passing by and the venues we'd go to .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Our first stop was at the Nido Discovery Science Center . I was distracted by the thought that we are already in MOA . So the venue wasn't so bad, although I did not enjoy the place that much . I've been to that place when I was in the 6th grade, and the frustrating part is that there was no improvement . What I mean is that, it has been 2 years already and yet nothing new was added . Some parts were even removed, or worse, dilapidated . But it was just the first venue, so I stopped thinking nega thoughts .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;What I enjoyed there? It was the space dome . We watched about the solar system, giant space clusters, super novas, galaxies, and other dimensions even bigger than what we could have ever imagined . The film/documentary was very nice . I felt like I was a part of the infinity of the outer space .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;After that place, we took our lunch inside our bus . At that time, the only thing that runs in my mind is that, "Our section is really a family". I don't know why, I just thought of it . We shared our packed-lunches with each other. Frann's mom prepared snacks for me actually, but I've decided to just take a few then gave the rest to Ave Joe . He doesn't have lunch lol .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;We stayed inside the bus for almost an hour . That was the most dead-time part of the field-trip . Oh, I almost forgot, I actually took a nap while we were waiting for departure . Rexson was a comfy, comfy pillow . =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Next stop; Myth of The Human Body . This was at Taguig? I forgot . This place gave me the chills actually . When I first heard of it, I thought that it was all statues of the body organs, which are made of wax . I was wrong . The place actually displayed real and dead human figures, organs, etc . It was very interesting, really . I learned new facts about our bodies, and what they really looked like from the inside .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;And by the way, there was an inside joke about the restaurant inside the exhibit's building . They said that no one buys food in there because once they've entered the exhibit, they'd lose their appetites, lol . Bye Taguig, hello Kulturang Pinoy .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Uhm, by the time we were going to Kulturang Pinoy, all I thought about was going to MOA . Anyway, I enjoyed the welcoming program they prepared for the students . That was a wild and sweaty activity . Everyone, okay not everyone, but most of the students, danced and shouted . I did not because I'm awkward like that . But I did enjoy being there .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Inside the blue room, (I forgot what they call it) some Juniors and Sophies were selected to perform some folk dances . I thought it'd be lame, but it wasn't . The video editing that they did made the dancing more awesome-looking . And and and, that was the first time that I saw my adviser, and my former-adviser, stomp to the beat and groove . I was surprised by the energy that they were exerting . I can tell that they really enjoyed it, I swear . They were great .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Finally, the venue I've waited for, SM Mall of Asia .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Once we were dropped by our bus, I felt the excitement inside of me . I suddenly forgot how tired I actually was . Naturally, I'm to be seen with Joanna, nothing new . We went to Time Zone . I do not know how long we've been there playing . I guess time really stops when you're with the person you love . looool .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I've said a while ago that I gave my lunch to my classmate, so by the time we were already strolling at MOA, I felt the desire for food, hunger . It took some time for Jam and I to find a resto or chain to buy chows . We've been inside and outside the mall looking for game . Most of the eating places were full, so we ended up eating shawarma at the food court .&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;As we were strolling, we passed by a Bear Cuddler shop . We entered the store because she wants to, and also because I have a plan . We looked at the bears on display, and then I asked her which among the bears look nice . She did not answer me properly though, hahaha . So when I've decided on which bear to buy, I bought it and I told her that the bear was for my mom . We left the store .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Nothing much happened afterwards . We took a stroll around the mall, chatting, window shopping, looking at other people and guessing about what their relationships are . Okay that was weird, but yes, we did look at couples and guessed if they are married or not . Mutual weirdness .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;The rest of the night was fun . While waiting for the buses to fetch the students, we sat outside . To maximize the use of the remaining time together, we had a talk . As we stare at the night sky, side by side, we actually changed the time to moments . I really enjoyed being with her .&amp;nbsp;Best friends&amp;nbsp;never fail to enjoy when they're together .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;It was a rainy trip on the way home, and everyone's exhausted . How about me? Of course I am too, but I didn't mind, 'cause on the way home I kept on holding to everything that happened on that day, and treasuring them as a lovely memory . And I'll keep that day, a daydream away .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-5457043976241113080?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/5457043976241113080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/5457043976241113080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/11/daydream-away.html' title='A daydream away.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-6105722819372611690</id><published>2011-11-17T17:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-17T19:28:47.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Man of Valor.</title><content type='html'>A brave-hearted man,&lt;br /&gt;With high salutes to his God.&lt;br /&gt;That's Andres indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-6105722819372611690?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/6105722819372611690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/6105722819372611690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/11/man-of-valor.html' title='Man of Valor.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-8845776578215403443</id><published>2011-10-12T06:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T06:53:22.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Warmth.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://a5.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/s720x720/300146_230872603637425_100001440603414_671527_1499045980_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://a5.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/s720x720/300146_230872603637425_100001440603414_671527_1499045980_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://a7.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc7/310575_230875360303816_100001440603414_671530_546453214_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://a7.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc7/310575_230875360303816_100001440603414_671530_546453214_n.jpg" width="236" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://a6.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/300061_230871700304182_100001440603414_671523_1350215876_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://a6.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/300061_230871700304182_100001440603414_671523_1350215876_n.jpg" width="238" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://a1.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/s720x720/310711_230872020304150_100001440603414_671525_1586577237_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://a1.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/s720x720/310711_230872020304150_100001440603414_671525_1586577237_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;The pictures above altogether is actually a greeting card that my classmates and I have made for teachers' day .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy teachers' day :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-8845776578215403443?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/8845776578215403443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/8845776578215403443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/10/pictures-above-altogether-is-actually.html' title='Warmth.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-2242567131580546201</id><published>2011-10-10T09:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-10T09:22:42.455-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Growing.</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;My&amp;nbsp;batch mates&amp;nbsp;and I have taken the National Career Assessment Examination about two weeks ago . Though I know, and I believe, that some of my&amp;nbsp;batch mates&amp;nbsp;didn't take the test seriously, I did the contrary . I know that this test aims to know how much we are capable of on handling a course . That is why I gave my best shot on that examination .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Through this NCAE, we wouldn't have a lot more trouble in searching for a college-course suitable for us . This would really be a big help, in my part, since until now I am undecided on what course I am to take after graduating high school .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-2242567131580546201?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/2242567131580546201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/2242567131580546201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/10/growing.html' title='Growing.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-416385601866487345</id><published>2011-10-01T22:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T23:00:28.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Photosynthesis.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Let's get this thing straight, I really think that I am like a coconut tree . I know you'd assume that I'm like a coconut tree because of the fact that I am tall and thin, but no . I am like a coconut tree for the reason that I could be anything handy for anyone . I mean, study each part of a coconut tree, you'd notice that each one of them has a purpose . Starting from the top, its leaves may be used to thatch roofs and to create hats, baskets, and fans . Its trunk may be used for canoes, posts, rafters, and fences . Its coconuts may be used for culinary purposes and a whole lot more . I guess that's sufficient enough to give explanation accurately .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I am a person who has various faces . I could be a good son for our family, an easy-go-lucky student at school, a clown for our classmates, a cartoonist for our school paper, a guitarist for our band, a young citizen for our nation, and maybe even a bestfriend and a lover as well . All of those are my faces in existence . They're a handful, I'd say . And just like a coconut tree, I really do have a lot of purposes in life . A lot more are yet to come, a lot more hang about to be discovered .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Alright I'll be honest, at first I really thought that the coconut tree best describes me because I'm tall, and thin . =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-416385601866487345?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/416385601866487345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/416385601866487345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/10/photosynthesis.html' title='Photosynthesis.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-1785784058500802044</id><published>2011-09-25T06:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-25T06:44:15.049-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A temporary escape.</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;Pictures up, everyone was smiling . The Junior students wore a smile as they held their awards up high .&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;It was our Intramurals last Friday and Saturday . I am part of the Juniors team; the Red Ferrari . The team names of this year's intrams were from luxury-slash-racing car brands . Pretty cool, I'd say . The names really suited every year level's style and personality .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Friday started with a bang . An opening program was conducted by the YSC, our school's sports club . After the program, the year levels' cheered for their Mr. and Ms. Physique candidates . All the contestants looked stunning . They were so attractive, and very sport-ish looking as well . It was hard to predict about who would possibly win . But I did wished that the third years' representative would win .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Right after the Physique part, the cheering was held . I actually don't know if it was more of&amp;nbsp;cheer-dancing&amp;nbsp;or cheering . lol I don't know . But hey, after the performance of the Juniors, I really thought that it was the best . Without any music accompaniment, they have produced a magnificent cheering . Very very well done .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Nothing much happened to me afterwards, because I do not have a sport . Not much of a surprise, I'd say .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Oh I almost forgot, I actually played basketball, and to be honest, I really messed up . lol . That sucks, really .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I watched other sports after my game . I also did watch Joanna as she defeated her opponents in table tennis and was declared as the champion . She's really awesome, I swear .&amp;nbsp;And I just stayed with her for the rest of the day . ∞&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-1785784058500802044?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/1785784058500802044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/1785784058500802044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/09/temporary-escape.html' title='A temporary escape.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-6662539335754858970</id><published>2011-09-19T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-19T07:17:51.448-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 116</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Let me not to the marriage of true minds&lt;br /&gt;Admit impediments. Love is not love&lt;br /&gt;Which alters when it alteration finds,&lt;br /&gt;Or bends with the remover to remove:&lt;br /&gt;O no! it is an ever-fixed mark&lt;br /&gt;That looks on tempests and is never shaken;&lt;br /&gt;It is the star to every wandering bark,&lt;br /&gt;Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.&lt;br /&gt;Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks&lt;br /&gt;Within his bending sickle's compass come:&lt;br /&gt;Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,&lt;br /&gt;But bears it out even to the edge of doom.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;If this be error and upon me proved,&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I never writ, nor no man ever loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Recalling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Three things that love is not according to Sonnet 116:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;1. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;-It isn't love if it quickly changes after any circumstance . Love remains unchanged, if it is real love .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;2. Or bends with the remover to remove .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;-Love cannot be removed by someone who is faithful to his or her lover, unless if it isn't true love .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;3. Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;-Real love cannot be measured by anything, nor calculated . True love's value can never be reached by any other riches in this world .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;4. Love alters not with his&amp;nbsp;brief&amp;nbsp;hours and weeks .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;-Love doesn't fade within days, weeks, or years . True love lasts forever .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Things that love is according to Sonnet 116:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;1. It is the star to every wandering bark .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;-Love can lead someone to a brighter path to life .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;2. O no! It is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempest and is never shaken .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;-True love may face hardships, but still remains true .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Interpreting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Love is represented by the star because just like the northern star, love may lead us to the correct path in life . Though following the path of love is risky, at the end of the journey all circumstances that we've surpassed will benefit and improve our love . That is how love helps the people who are lost in love to get back to the brighter side of their lives .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Extending&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I do agree with the speaker's interpretation of love, because my point of view when it comes to love matches his thoughts about love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-6662539335754858970?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/6662539335754858970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/6662539335754858970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/09/sonnet-116.html' title='Sonnet 116'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-4932741041290174247</id><published>2011-09-04T05:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-04T05:33:12.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dialogue.</title><content type='html'>One lazy afternoon, Michael decided to call his mother living in the province of Cavite .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*ring....ring....ring...*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maye: Hello?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael: Hi mom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maye: Oh Michael, I'm so glad you called . How are you son?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael: I'm doing good mom . Sorry if I wasn't able to call last week . &lt;u&gt;I had been&lt;/u&gt; studying for our periodical tests .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maye: I understand son . How's the new dorm that you had transferred to? A friend of mine said that it is one of the best and safest dorms in Metro Manila .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael: It's great mom . Even better than the last one because this one's nearer my school . Thanks for suggesting this dormitory mom .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maye: You're welcome . Glad that you'd be a lot more comfortable there .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael: How's work mom? Don't stress yourself these days . It's easier to get sick when you're stressed out .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maye: I'm good . I &lt;u&gt;have been doing&lt;/u&gt; a lot of paperwork these days . Such a hassle .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael: Well good luck with that mom . By the way, &lt;u&gt;I have been planning&lt;/u&gt; on visiting your school this week . What day may I visit? I &lt;u&gt;had been missing&lt;/u&gt; my previous school .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maye: You could visit on Friday since it would be the last day of intrams . You really should visit your high school more often .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael: Then Friday it is . I'll be visiting home as well after visiting CNSHS .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maye: Alright . We'll be expecting you son .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael: Yes mom . Hey, I have to go now . See you on Friday mom . Bye!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maye: Bye son, take care .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-4932741041290174247?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/4932741041290174247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/4932741041290174247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/09/one-lazy-afternoon-michael-decided-to.html' title='Dialogue.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-3164151656153999415</id><published>2011-08-25T06:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-04T05:25:23.725-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Teachers: My Modern Day Heroes.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Coming Soon'; line-height: 24px;"&gt;How is it going to be,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Coming Soon';"&gt;When no one seems to see&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Coming Soon';"&gt;The problem students seem to agree.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Coming Soon';"&gt;How is it going to be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Education is what we need&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Coming Soon';"&gt;And therefore a growing seed&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Coming Soon';"&gt;For a better house, a better feed&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Coming Soon';"&gt;Where are the heroes that we need?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Coming Soon';"&gt;We need them&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Coming Soon';"&gt;The people that can stop this mayhem&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Coming Soon';"&gt;This problem of poor education which we condemn&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Coming Soon';"&gt;Teachers you are our heroes of our country and anthem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Coming Soon';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-3164151656153999415?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/3164151656153999415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/3164151656153999415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/08/teachers-my-modern-day-heroes.html' title='Teachers: My Modern Day Heroes.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-7991770238305289131</id><published>2011-08-21T05:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T05:18:47.868-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hummingbird.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;When there are thoughts that I couldn't explain, or feelings that I couldn't understand, there's always a song to relate them to . There's always a song for a feeling of this, a feeling of that . Music is somewhat a part of my being, a part of what I am and what I feel . Music is my life .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I love music as much as I love myself . I have a lot of reasons why.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Like most of the music lovers, my reason for loving music is for entertainment . Whenever I have nothing to do, I get my guitar, get some friends, and then let the party start . As simple as jamming with friends, I already enjoy music . I do not know why, but whenever someone sings for me while I play the guitar, I enjoy it a lot . I'm having goosebumps just by the thought of it, lol .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Another reason why I love music is that it makes me happy, so happy . In times that I am alone, or whenever I get depressed, music is my savior . I cry to the music I listen to . When I'm laid up in bed and I'm sad, music calms me down . I do not know what would I do if music doesn't exist .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Music makes me understand the emotions that I feel . The feeling of joy, anger, love, especially love hahaha . I love music because the feelings become a lot more intense . It's like music levels up the feelings of everyone .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;So what kind of music do I love? Well there's this punk-rock and alternative genre which I enjoy listening to . They're kinda like band music . Some are The Maine, The Cab, All Time Low, VE, and a whole lot more . I love those bands . *praises*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Music is infinite ∞&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-7991770238305289131?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/7991770238305289131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/7991770238305289131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/08/there-are-thoughts-that-i-couldnt.html' title='Hummingbird.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-7995099096829128652</id><published>2011-07-31T04:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T10:16:05.404-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Somewhere in the between.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I've never thought of going to school on the month of September . I don't know why, but I think I would never agree to DepEd's proposal of moving the opening of classes to September .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I don't mind the rainy season in the first months of the school year . I enjoy it, actually . Not because of having a lot of suspensions of classes, but it's because of the atmosphere inside the classroom when it rains . I feel comfortable when I hear the drizzle and drops of rain splashing and creating puddles outside . And when the raindrops are on the window, they are such a wonderful sight . I love the cool winds entering the room . The rainy weather transforms the room into a place where I could enjoy learning more .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Besides the atmosphere thing, another thing that I like about our schedule of opening of classes is that I could enjoy summer more . Our vacation wouldn't be much of a summer vacation anymore, since we would still be having our classes on the summer months . No more sunny beach get aways and swimming parties if ever the proposal gets approved .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I am actually thinking that there wouldn't be much of a difference in the way of learning . Think of this: the same number of school days, the same lessons, the same everything I guess . So what's the point of moving it . I just hope that before DepEd puts the proposal into action, all of the students here in the Philippines would be asked if they are in favor or not with the DepEd's plan . And there should be more researches about the effectiveness of the plan . Would the moving be a good idea or not ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;To sum up, I say no . June classes still owned September classes .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-7995099096829128652?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/7995099096829128652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/7995099096829128652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/07/somewhere-in-between.html' title='Somewhere in the between.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-1659130076217652983</id><published>2011-07-27T06:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T06:26:46.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>100 things.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Last Friday was superb . The Astronomy Day was a jam-packed event full of &lt;b&gt;out-of-this-world&lt;/b&gt; fun and excitement . (I hope you get what I mean about out-of-this-world. Outer space stuff, get it?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Okay, so I got bored typing paragraphs in making an entry, so I've decided to make a list about all of the things that I did or what happened to me on Astronomy Day .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I went to school in PE uniform . I find that significant because we were never allowed to go to school in PE . That day was an excuse .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I was never noticed that I wasn't wearing plain white rubber shoes .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I learned a new game in our English class . It was about how wide our vocabulary is .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I eliminated 4 people in our first round .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I was always eliminated in the next rounds .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I got an average of 80 in my oral participation that day . =))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. It was the first time that I wasn't sleepy during Analytic Geometry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. There were no more classes after our morning recess . I did nothing productive, as usual .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. When we were called to the gym, my heart burst with excitement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Another burst when we were asked to fall in line .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. The Astronomy Day has begun .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. We were asked to go to the Chemistry Lab to watch a film about the outer space .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. I was serious in watching . Too serious .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. I enjoyed the movie, and I learned a lot too .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. After the movie, we went back to the gym .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. SPACE DOME omg . There were so many emotions that I just couldn't explain when I was inside the dome . Too much happiness perhaps . It was like my dream of being in outer space was fulfilled .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. After going to ultra-awesome Space Dome, I thirsted for more . I thirsted for another round inside the dome and I thirsted for drinks . I haven't drink since morning .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. We waited in line outside the III-Oxygen's room . The exhibit part was held in their room . Lucky guys .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. While waiting we took some pictures .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. And a lot more pictures .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Seriously, there were really a lot of pictures taken . =))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Finally it was our time to get in .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Inside the exhibit room was very hot . This hotness made me sleepy during the discussion . But was then easily diminished when the astronomer said that we would be seeing meteorites .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. After the discussion we were asked to fall in line to see and touch the meteorites .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. The line was very, very long . So guess what we did .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. We took pictures .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. I went immediately outside the exhibit after touching the rocks .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. I ate lunch with Monica and my classmate Frann . That was new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Inside our classroom, everyone had fun jamming . We sang and we enjoyed it .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. We were asked to go to the gym to attend the "Ask An Astronomer" part of the event .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. I didn't ask . I wasn't curious . Hahaha .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. There were no more classes after the previous event so we just stayed in our room until noon .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. It was past 5 when we were asked to clean the room in preparation for the star gazing .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. We cleaned .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. It was our classmate Jam's birthday the following day so she brought our class food to eat for the night .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. The star gazing did not pursue, which was sad .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. We ate the food from Jam . The tapa was delicious, I swear .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. It was night, and we were asked to go home .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. We did not go home but instead we had a sleepover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40-100. The day was completed at the sleepover at Jam's house . It was like the sleepover was more relevant than the Astronomy Day itself . We partied hard . And we didn't sleep .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt infinite .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;∞&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-1659130076217652983?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/1659130076217652983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/1659130076217652983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/07/100-things.html' title='100 things.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-7034632174491222712</id><published>2011-07-17T02:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-17T02:27:11.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An angel.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Troubled thoughts . It would be difficult for someone like me to recover from such a tragedy . At a young age, I never expected this to happen . No one would ever expect this to happen .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Life just cannot avoid the tricks of death . Playful and mischievous, death would strike at no certain time . I guess I just have to accept the fact that death is really inevitable . Death is always around the corner, ready to take on someone and only pays back broken hearts .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Death, as said by other people, is easy . They consider it as a relief from life's problems, which &amp;nbsp;I whole-heartedly agree . But what they do not consider is that death only gives pain to the love ones of the person who has passed . That pain is excruciating, a pain like no other . A pain that sucks out all the happiness inside of you .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;~o~o~o~o~o~&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Thursday, almost two weeks ago, a friend of mine has passed away . Paula Ceriz P. Rey, the person whom I considered as a loved one of mine . She was so young then . She only enjoyed life for fifteen years, a fact that I truly despise . She deserved more than what she ever had in her whole life, but there was nothing that I could do about it .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Her death wasn't easy for me, knowing that there are still a lot of things that I should ask apologies for . It hurts to believe that it was too late for me to ask for apologies . I feel so bad about it .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I know that she is happy right now, because I believe that she is now with our Father . And wherever she may be, there will always be a memory of her, or maybe even a memory of what we used to be, that will stay inside my heart, and it will stay here forever . ∞ &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1sD9XtySKhY/TiKoWo7kM5I/AAAAAAAAAGw/NXejs9nV8Ak/s1600/216766_10150158103604255_793719254_6467033_6869782_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1sD9XtySKhY/TiKoWo7kM5I/AAAAAAAAAGw/NXejs9nV8Ak/s320/216766_10150158103604255_793719254_6467033_6869782_n.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;You know I can't cry hard enough, for you to hear me now.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-7034632174491222712?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/7034632174491222712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/7034632174491222712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/07/angel.html' title='An angel.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1sD9XtySKhY/TiKoWo7kM5I/AAAAAAAAAGw/NXejs9nV8Ak/s72-c/216766_10150158103604255_793719254_6467033_6869782_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-760104279776180016</id><published>2011-07-12T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T07:27:52.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prepositions please.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Due to failing before&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;with regards to past&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;worth rewarded for&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;before&amp;nbsp;as well as&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Against towards beneath&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;despite including along&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;instead of underneath&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;prior to among.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-760104279776180016?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/760104279776180016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/760104279776180016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/07/prepositions-please.html' title='Prepositions please.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-7052297334096544408</id><published>2011-07-12T06:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-19T05:38:15.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Party rock anthem.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Music means a lot to me . Music is one of the things that I consider as the source of my happiness . Without it , my life would be a little less colorful . There would be no sound of my heart pounding as I do the things that completes my day . I wouldn't be hearing the voices of the people that I socialize and communicate with . I wouldn't hear the beautiful voices of the vocalists from my favorite bands . Or worse , I wouldn't be hearing the wonderful melodies my favorite bands create .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;As a music lover , there are these things that I call cool and things that I call lame . When it comes to bands , I am very&amp;nbsp;meticulous . I listen to every beat of the drum , every strum and pluck of the guitar strings , every word the singer sings , and all of them combined&amp;nbsp;as one&amp;nbsp;beautiful&amp;nbsp;song . With these reasons I came up with a list of my favorite and least favorite bands of the alternative-punk-rock genre.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;To start, let me tell you that I always loved listening to the Alternative genre . It may sound a bit of rock , but just the right amount of edginess in every song (well that's the way&amp;nbsp;I think it is) . One of my favorite bands as of now, is the all-time-awesome band, "&lt;b&gt;All Time Low&lt;/b&gt;" . I'm still addicted to their hit-song, Six Feet Under the Stars . Truly , All Time Low has this thing about the teenage-life in their songs , which I appreciate so much .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Next band is "&lt;b&gt;The Cab&lt;/b&gt;" . It may sound funny that all of their band members' name is Alex . Epic . Their song entitled Falling Up made a hole into my heart, lyrically, which is the reason why I love them so much .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;The band named "&lt;b&gt;This Century&lt;/b&gt;" also made into my list of favorites . They revive songs like they are the ones who really composed them . Every song they revive sounds fresh, as if it was never heard before . You're awesome , This Century .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;And last but not the least, the band that helped me start a new and better life through their inspiring songs, "&lt;b&gt;The Maine&lt;/b&gt;" . With a chunk of life's lessons in every song, who couldn't adore their songs? They are best form of encouragement and inspiration our rocking generation could ever have .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~o~o~o~o~o~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;As for the list of my least favorite bands, there's actually none . Anything and everything, as long as it is from an Alternative-Rock band, I will surely like it . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;/ This &amp;nbsp;entry is late . My bad =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-7052297334096544408?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/7052297334096544408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/7052297334096544408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/07/rock-anthem.html' title='Party rock anthem.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-2068712777618113269</id><published>2011-06-25T06:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-25T07:27:09.862-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On every road.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Us , children of today's parents , are always asked by the people about our responsibilities at home , at school , and even at our community . Well , I sure am tired of saying that I don't do much to help our community (Except the fact that I never threw my trash at the streets . It's not a big deal actually.) , and all I do at school was study and be socially awkward . At home I am different . This is were I become a responsible son .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I know that people think of me as the lazy type , easy-go-lucky guy who only knows how to update his status on Facebook . That may be sorta true , but definitely not at all times . I observe limits as well . Besides using the computer , there are a bunch more of things that I do at home ; most of them are chores .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I know that I'm not much of a responsible student , but at home I am a responsible son . I help my mom by doing simple chores . I wash the plates , even though we have a new maid . I also take care of my younger brother . I help him with his homework , but most of the time I was the one doing it , not him . I also fix our bedrooms . Sometimes I also help with the cooking . Those are the small things I do at home . I know it's not much , but I still have this one more thing I do at home that makes our family happy , solid .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I am my parents' joy and laughter , even now that I'm fifteen . I am the reason why our family is together . I am the reason why my parents are together until now . I am the reason why our family remains solid . I serve as the person that binds each member of our family together . Even though there were times that our family was losing hope , I still remain positive and continue to inspire my parents to pursue . I guess this is the role of every children in the world that bonds their families together . This is the role that everyone must agree to do in order to have a strong relationship with their families .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;It's Saturday . I've been typing this entry since 9:30 . Anyway , the storm Falcon's not anymore messing up the weather , so maybe tomorrow my mom , my brother , and I could hang out somewhere and have some quality time together . Lasagna for dinner , bye .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-2068712777618113269?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/2068712777618113269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/2068712777618113269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/06/children-of-todays-parents-are-always.html' title='On every road.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-8647407100809405683</id><published>2011-06-18T10:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-18T10:34:52.534-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On the bright side.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;December 2, 2010 was the last time that our family was together . I never wanted to talk about this thing actually, but I guess I have to . From this moment that I'm typing this entry up to the end of it, I promise that there will be tears .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;That date was the day of my father's flight to San Francisco, California . That day meant a lifetime change for our family . My father migrated to live with our other relatives in the U.S . It sucks, to be left here in the Philippines . It sucks not to have our father here at home . Or maybe it isn't much of a home anymore .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Around 6:00 in the morning of that day, I woke up to my brother's noise . He was young, and he was busy playing . I remember approaching him that time, and actually played with him . Something I did for the first time . I was not in my own focus, my mind was flying . I was quiet then . While playing with him, our father approached us, then he did something that he hasn't done for more than 10 years; he patted me on the head . All of a sudden an ocean of memories flowed into my mind . I tried to hold back my tears at that moment . I got out of the room .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Lunch time that day, our relatives arrived at home . My cousins, with their moms and dads . It was like a reunion . The only difference is that this was a miserable reunion . Everyone was having a great time . My father was preparing the stuff that he will be bringing, my mother was talking to my aunts, and my brother was enjoying the company of my cousins . I just stayed in my room . I knew that everyone was hiding a sad feeling deep inside . I knew that everyone was holding back a tear or two . No one could possibly be happy that day .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Dinner time that day, was the most depressing moment . Everyone was at the dining room . The room was filled with mixed emotions . Some were happy because our whole family was together once again, some were sad because in a few hours my father would already be going to the airport .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;After dinner was the time my father said his good bye's to everyone . My mother was crying hard, so hard that it broke the hearts of everyone in that room . He first said his good bye's to my uncles and aunts . &amp;nbsp;Then he kissed my cousins . He said good bye to my mother, and he was comforting her at the same time . He hugged my brother and said that he will be back home soon, which made my brother smile . That moment I wished that I was as brave as my brother for he did not cried .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I was the last person he said good bye to . He asked me to promise him that I will be a responsible young man . I promised and then he left .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Today is fathers' day . My father's not home . Sending an e-mail isn't enough to tell him how much I miss him . I wish he was here at this time, at this very moment, and I will tell him the greatest thing a son could say to his father&amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt;:&lt;/b&gt; Happy fathers' day dad .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-8647407100809405683?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/8647407100809405683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/8647407100809405683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/06/2-2010-was-last-time-that-our-family.html' title='On the bright side.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8844721231850466894.post-1920883542272269891</id><published>2011-06-11T08:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-12T07:35:27.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>They ask me questions, I can't provide answers.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Today will be different . It has to be . I will smile and it will be believable . My smile will say, "I'm fine . Thank you . Yes . Much better ." I will start fresh . Be someone new . It's the only way I'll make it through .&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Yes, I did made it through . It has been a week already . So many adjustments were made, or would it be more&amp;nbsp;preferable to say, so many adjustments &lt;b&gt;are&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt;to be&lt;/b&gt; made . I really appreciate my new classmates' way of making me feel that I belong, I really do . It's just that I would be missing the ones I had before . I may sound bitter right now, I'm sorry . It's just that this first week of classes came with a sudden blow&amp;nbsp;of memories of my freshman and sophomore years .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Monday . Not much of a surprise that I would be coming to school a bit late . I mean, imagine how far I live from where my school is . It's just a part of the sacrifice I have to make so that I could finish my studies .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Anyway, going back to the Monday thing, it wasn't as lonely as I thought it would be . My classmates and I have already started to develop this companionship thing . I guess that was a pretty good start .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;As much as I wanted to hang out more with my classmates during break times and lunch, I just couldn't resist going with my&amp;nbsp;best friends . It was hard for us to hang out now, because us three came from three different sections, such a hassle . But despite that thought, we still managed to get together during recess and lunch time . It felt good being with them once again .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Tuesday . First day of our diagnostic exams . I didn't answered them seriously, since most of the items were still unknown to my knowledge . Well maybe I knew some, only a few .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;The second half of the day was&amp;nbsp;allotted&amp;nbsp;for the school clubs and organizations . I joined YSC, or our school's sports club . I've been in that club since first year . And up until now, I remained loyal . Good news is that I got elected as an escort, not-so-good news is that being the club's escort was already my position last year . I wonder when will I have a higher position . Ha ha ha .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; The fun part of this year's YSC is that my best friends are now with me in the club . We would be having another period to be together .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Wednesday . It has been a very wet day . Rain caught me right before class . It sucks not having an umbrella . I ran from the school gate up to our room, and I ended up soaked .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;The first half of the day was scheduled again for us to take the remaining exams . And not much of a surprise, I did not take them seriously . The afternoon was intended for regular classes, but the teachers had their meeting, so we did nothing productive . Okay maybe that was only me, since I managed to seat on my chair for the rest of the afternoon . I was daydreaming, thinking about the memories of the previous school year . It felt sad though .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Thursday . The rain just got harder, and I had fever . Maybe because of me being soaking wet the day before . I hate being sick . I could not get up to my feet that whole day, so what I did is that I just stayed inside my room, watching the rain as it gently washes away the happiness around . It was quiet, the type of environment that I would prefer to live in forever . I cried then, I do not know why .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Friday . It was fun . Yeah, just fun . The new scouting uniform was so cool . I'm not being narcissistic or anything, but I really think that the outfit looks good on me . Ha ha ha .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;To sum up, I could only say two things; the first week turned out very well, might as well say that the week was brilliant, and secondly, I need to get more sleep . Yes, I'm tired . Looking forward for an awesome weekend . Bye .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8844721231850466894-1920883542272269891?l=citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/1920883542272269891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8844721231850466894/posts/default/1920883542272269891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citiesbuiltonsand.blogspot.com/2011/06/today-will-be-different.html' title='They ask me questions, I can&apos;t provide answers.'/><author><name>Michael Nangca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11574745503902126284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-52_2VkZb9uc/TaAn3wqgLZI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yH_wsyQXrdA/s220/fuckingugly.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
