<?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-5725600529159177562</id><updated>2011-07-08T04:37:18.468-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a Teenage Mishap</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5725600529159177562/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Teenage Screw-up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09941773786179286697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OU2t4USEtpU/S7dPna_6edI/AAAAAAAAAAs/YF93pPYRSBY/S220/pic+108.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5725600529159177562.post-889755358890014070</id><published>2010-04-03T06:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T07:21:20.499-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confession no. 006</title><content type='html'>How do you start writing about a year's worth of dirt?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since my last post, I graduated from High School, Got into the premiere State University, UP-Diliman, met my awesome blockmates, cried over loads of school work, got my very first INC grade and removed it, smiled at the end of my first semester as a freshman, got sick on the first week back to school, met new classmates, and survived my college freshman year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what's the highlight of my freshman year?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had loads of fun with my blockmates during the first sem, exploring the campus, going on a field trip, food trips outside campus, and LOL moments with my friend, Erlyne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I think second sem beats the first. It's tragic that I didn't get any classes with my former blockmates but I did meet equally awesome people, particularly in my Chem16 class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chemistry would not have been this fun without my totally fun-loving lec teacher, super considerate lab instructor, and beyond awesome lab classmates, the GRYFFINDORS.&lt;br /&gt;Last Monday's semender party, though really amazing, marked the end of a semester's worth of stories, laughs, cries over exams, lab experiments, and bonding moments. We may not have won 'best house' in the house cup, but I felt like I already won with the best lab instructor, and the best lab classmates ever. I must say, I'm so going to miss this class, more for the people in it  than the lessons, really, but I seriously will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End of school means hello, summer vacation. I thought about getting enrolled in summer classes, it's a good thing my mom said no because I would've totally missed out on a great summer escapade. I'll try summer classes next year, but for now, I'll just have to enjoy and relax. Hey, I'm only a college freshie, so, no stress.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5725600529159177562-889755358890014070?l=historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com/feeds/889755358890014070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com/2010/04/confession-no-006.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5725600529159177562/posts/default/889755358890014070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5725600529159177562/posts/default/889755358890014070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com/2010/04/confession-no-006.html' title='Confession no. 006'/><author><name>Teenage Screw-up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09941773786179286697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OU2t4USEtpU/S7dPna_6edI/AAAAAAAAAAs/YF93pPYRSBY/S220/pic+108.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5725600529159177562.post-3341218255071066098</id><published>2009-02-20T06:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T07:21:05.537-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confession 005</title><content type='html'>BITTERNESS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One minute you think you've found the BEST FRIENDS in the world. Then with just the blink of an eye, everything shifts from a happy-bonding moment to a let's-completely-ignore-each-other one. If things don't patch up before we go on our separate ways, I'll still be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stand by what I said. I WAS sorry for my mistake, but guess what? You've done a more terrible thing. Scratch that, you ARE doing more horrible things and that's just sick. Now, I'm happy. We're happy. Actually, I think I'm better now. So, just.. leave us alone, darn it! I feel like you want to taunt us with mockery. Please, just.. STOP!! It's hurting more people than you know.  Oh, but you wouldn't actually care if people GOT hurt, right? 'cause your hearts are made of PLASTIC--cold, hard plastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See what you've done? You happy now that I feel like a tortured soul? I feel like hell, that make you happy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the record, I was ready to move on and break through that tall barrier between us. I guess now, it's just too late and too EXHAUSTING to talk to people who have closed hearts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5725600529159177562-3341218255071066098?l=historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com/feeds/3341218255071066098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com/2009/02/confession-005.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5725600529159177562/posts/default/3341218255071066098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5725600529159177562/posts/default/3341218255071066098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com/2009/02/confession-005.html' title='Confession 005'/><author><name>Teenage Screw-up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09941773786179286697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OU2t4USEtpU/S7dPna_6edI/AAAAAAAAAAs/YF93pPYRSBY/S220/pic+108.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5725600529159177562.post-2682100774816628555</id><published>2009-02-10T05:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T05:50:56.344-08:00</updated><title type='text'>confession no. 004</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;NOW PLAYING: CRUSH by DAVID ARCHULETA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still got tons of school stuff to take care of yet my persistent journal-instinct just wouldn't back down. I had to let this one out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JEALOUSY. It's a really serious thing, I suppose. When it hits you, it's like a plague -- slowly[?] eating you up until all that's left is BITTERNESS. The green-eyed monster has once again caught me off guard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sad part though is that I'm jealous of someone who's actually close to my heart. I just can't help it. S/He seems to be stealing away my likes, designs, ideas, MY LIFE. I know it's wrong to feel that way, but my heart tells me otherwise. WARNING: MIND-HEART CONFLICT!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel like s/he is using me to climb that social ladder. S/He may not be aware of it but I mean, what the heck? What's really disappointing is that s/he knows my feelings yet chooses to ignore them. ARRGGGH!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've tried most of those defense mechanisms and nothing would work. I even threatened myself of, well, slapping myself, just to get rid of this feeling. It stinks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that felt good to finally let it out. It's been sort of bugging my poor mind for days now. So there, now that I've said a fraction of what I wanted to, I'd better get back on my school works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yeah, that sucks too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"hmm.. sounds fishy!" - eka&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5725600529159177562-2682100774816628555?l=historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com/feeds/2682100774816628555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com/2009/02/confession-no-004.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5725600529159177562/posts/default/2682100774816628555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5725600529159177562/posts/default/2682100774816628555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com/2009/02/confession-no-004.html' title='confession no. 004'/><author><name>Teenage Screw-up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09941773786179286697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OU2t4USEtpU/S7dPna_6edI/AAAAAAAAAAs/YF93pPYRSBY/S220/pic+108.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5725600529159177562.post-2301705222026922762</id><published>2009-01-24T22:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T00:45:00.899-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confession no. 001</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"  &gt;"In the end, we'll pay for the outing of whom they decide to win anyway. So WHY BOTHER?"&lt;br /&gt;--someone whose identity I've decided to keep to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's finally done with. No take backs, no regrets, no harm done. Or are there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;CONFESSION no. 001&lt;/span&gt; -- &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;High School's nearly over, did I enjoy it to the fullest? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The ride has reached its limits. I've been through the lowest of the low and the highest of the high. I guess that's just how school is for most of us--the very witness to our life's development. High School for me is now in its denouement. A stage in which the conflicts have reached resolutions and where the protagonists are soon to live happily ever after. It's where as one story ends, another chapter begins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These past four years of my life had been a rocky road to travel. There were just too many obstacles along the way. Still, it was a joyride. Here are some of my most unforgettable moments throughout this journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;FIRST YEAR &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FIELD TRIP&lt;br /&gt;I had so much fun at the amusement park with my friends. The 'Rio Grande Rapids' ride was loads of fun. We had to wait in line for hours but it was definitely worth it. Then we rode the ferris wheel. The view from up there was just exhilarating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OPEN FORUM&lt;br /&gt;It was just after the field trip when WW3 occurred in I-C. Of course I wasn't particularly proud of what I did back then, but as I said, no regrets. Furthermore, it was not I who ignited the fight. If only they had understood what free writing means, no misunderstanding would have occurred. Anyhow, this was one of the not-so-good memoirs I have of my freshman year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;SECOND YEAR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;FIELD DAY&lt;br /&gt;That's right, my very first field day in high school. It also includes the battle of the bands. That was one hell of a night, I tell you.Although I really didn't stay long enough for the announcement of the winners, it was definitely a night to remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHRISTMAS PARTY&lt;br /&gt;It was supposedly a time of bonding and enjoyment but someone spoiled it for me. I lost my cell phone that day and I was crying for the entirety of the party. It was really a not-so-good memory for me as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;THIRD YEAR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Everything that happened that year was just memorable. A lot of things happened. And for what it's worth, it was all unforgettable. I need not mention specifically the things that happened because as I said, it was all worth remembering. There may be RELATIONSHIPS that, should I say, ended but a lot more started so it sort of filled up the void I felt for a short while. This, I would say is probably the height of my high school life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;FOURTH YEAR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's an ongoing mystery. But this much I can tell, it's been a wild ride so far. And things aren't just the way they used to be. There are a lot of realizations I've made, truths I've been struggling to accept, relationships I've been trying to keep, relationships I've wonderfully started, relationships I've pushed to the cliff, a lot more of the relationship thing and just so much more. There's also the bonus of knowing the best adviser in the world, our second mom, Mrs. Tirones. Surely, it's been a long journey for all of us, but one thing I know is for sure.. No matter what happens next, 4-AVER will stand united against all odds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;So, the answer: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;DEFINITELY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have given my heart and soul into this ride. High School is one thrilling roller coaster ride which is now coming to a halt. This ride will end for sure but I have certainly enjoyed it as much as I can. I have screamed through its loops but I have felt the thrill of being thousands of feet above the ground as well. And now, it's nearing graduation time, but the AMAZING people I've met along the way will surely hold a special place in &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;my heart&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5725600529159177562-2301705222026922762?l=historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com/feeds/2301705222026922762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com/2009/01/confession-no-001.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5725600529159177562/posts/default/2301705222026922762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5725600529159177562/posts/default/2301705222026922762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historien-om-mitt-liv.blogspot.com/2009/01/confession-no-001.html' title='Confession no. 001'/><author><name>Teenage Screw-up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09941773786179286697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OU2t4USEtpU/S7dPna_6edI/AAAAAAAAAAs/YF93pPYRSBY/S220/pic+108.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
