<?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-2254659102826621827</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:37:48.868-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my own thing</title><subtitle type='html'>everything that my heart feels to say that i can't say by my mouth is all here..</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xakerz.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2254659102826621827/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xakerz.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>xakerz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16405635200970372299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MpvMVCY0fKc/SbivfWTrCII/AAAAAAAAAAM/EVdUId87NxE/S220/Fyem055.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>5</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2254659102826621827.post-7943151497628633393</id><published>2009-04-06T23:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T23:53:25.371-07:00</updated><title type='text'>questions that puzzle me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MpvMVCY0fKc/Sdr11OKzA1I/AAAAAAAAAAw/G8bmcmJCOik/s1600-h/295999149231l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321836204376916818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MpvMVCY0fKc/Sdr11OKzA1I/AAAAAAAAAAw/G8bmcmJCOik/s200/295999149231l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I really miss lukerz but why i feel this way? i'm no longer excited for the reunion "we" are planning. When we first talked about this reunion thingy it seemed that my heart was jumping and jumping and jumping, but now?? I don't know.. May be the excitement I felt before is already fear now. Fear for what, of what? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Err. I don't know! So many questions keep coming on my mind. I don't have the answers for all of it. But i guess one thing is for sure. Now, i'm afraid of facing the face i think i had burried already..? May be, i'm just afraid of being asked and asked the same questions i'd been answering before. But why should i feel afraid if i had answered those already?  If i know what i should answer to them? Oh, simply because the person they are referring to will be with us.. with me. That would let the situation harder for me to handle.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*sigh* i don't know. Why i feel this way?! I'm afraid! I'm nervous! But i should forget all of those and think of one emotion I should feel--excitment. Atlast, i will be with my group, my companions, my friends that i met on the first stage of my teenage life-- the LUKERZ!:)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2254659102826621827-7943151497628633393?l=xakerz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xakerz.blogspot.com/feeds/7943151497628633393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://xakerz.blogspot.com/2009/04/questions-that-puzzle-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2254659102826621827/posts/default/7943151497628633393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2254659102826621827/posts/default/7943151497628633393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xakerz.blogspot.com/2009/04/questions-that-puzzle-me.html' title='questions that puzzle me?'/><author><name>xakerz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16405635200970372299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MpvMVCY0fKc/SbivfWTrCII/AAAAAAAAAAM/EVdUId87NxE/S220/Fyem055.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MpvMVCY0fKc/Sdr11OKzA1I/AAAAAAAAAAw/G8bmcmJCOik/s72-c/295999149231l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2254659102826621827.post-6754563049601678585</id><published>2009-04-06T23:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T23:22:02.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a poem for someone i know=)</title><content type='html'>how could i let you feel&lt;br /&gt;that what i feel is real&lt;br /&gt;when fear covers me&lt;br /&gt;and hurt is just there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everytime you're near&lt;br /&gt;all i want is let you hear&lt;br /&gt;what my heart truly beats&lt;br /&gt;and ket you reach&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wanna sing this song&lt;br /&gt;in front of you so long&lt;br /&gt;with this guitar i hold&lt;br /&gt;and the letter i fold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish i could whisper to you&lt;br /&gt;what really makes me feel blue&lt;br /&gt;and soon shout on them&lt;br /&gt;that i love you and that's what i really aim&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2254659102826621827-6754563049601678585?l=xakerz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xakerz.blogspot.com/feeds/6754563049601678585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://xakerz.blogspot.com/2009/04/poem-for-someone-i-know.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2254659102826621827/posts/default/6754563049601678585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2254659102826621827/posts/default/6754563049601678585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xakerz.blogspot.com/2009/04/poem-for-someone-i-know.html' title='a poem for someone i know=)'/><author><name>xakerz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16405635200970372299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MpvMVCY0fKc/SbivfWTrCII/AAAAAAAAAAM/EVdUId87NxE/S220/Fyem055.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2254659102826621827.post-3130252266887823160</id><published>2009-04-06T23:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T23:13:39.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i wish i could turn back the time&lt;br /&gt;when we're all there in one line&lt;br /&gt;having stupid yet funny joke&lt;br /&gt;making each other choke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the laughter that filled my ear&lt;br /&gt;is what i miss to hear&lt;br /&gt;where all  dancing on there&lt;br /&gt;ang singing in here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the times we get them angry&lt;br /&gt;when all we were hungry&lt;br /&gt;seating on their way&lt;br /&gt;with so much to say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all the tears that dropped&lt;br /&gt;when all of us where cold and wrapped&lt;br /&gt;are not wasted as what they might think&lt;br /&gt;for all of those are not from our eyes&lt;br /&gt;yet from our hearts when we sink&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;though i have them now&lt;br /&gt;i still couldn't feel the same somehow&lt;br /&gt;for i miss you all&lt;br /&gt;that i used to know&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2254659102826621827-3130252266887823160?l=xakerz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xakerz.blogspot.com/feeds/3130252266887823160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://xakerz.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-wish-i-could-turn-back-time-when-were.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2254659102826621827/posts/default/3130252266887823160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2254659102826621827/posts/default/3130252266887823160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xakerz.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-wish-i-could-turn-back-time-when-were.html' title=''/><author><name>xakerz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16405635200970372299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MpvMVCY0fKc/SbivfWTrCII/AAAAAAAAAAM/EVdUId87NxE/S220/Fyem055.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2254659102826621827.post-3347910414533991096</id><published>2009-04-06T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T23:33:54.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>poem for my friends.. i really miss them.. my old grupee:(</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i wish i could turn back the time&lt;br&gt;when we're all there in one line&lt;br&gt;having stupid yet funny joke&lt;br&gt;making each other choke&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;the laughter that filled my ear&lt;br&gt;is what i miss to hear&lt;br&gt;where all dancing on there&lt;br&gt;ang singing in here&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;the times we get them angry&lt;br&gt;when all we were hungry&lt;br&gt;seating on their way&lt;br&gt;with so much to say&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;all the tears that dropped&lt;br&gt;when all of us where cold and wrapped&lt;br&gt;are not wasted as what they might think&lt;br&gt;for all of those are not from our eyes&lt;br&gt;yet from our hearts when we sink&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;though i have them now&lt;br&gt;i still couldn't feel the same somehow&lt;br&gt;for i miss you all&lt;br&gt;that i used to know &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2254659102826621827-3347910414533991096?l=xakerz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xakerz.blogspot.com/feeds/3347910414533991096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://xakerz.blogspot.com/2009/04/poem-for-my-friends-i-really-miss-them.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2254659102826621827/posts/default/3347910414533991096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2254659102826621827/posts/default/3347910414533991096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xakerz.blogspot.com/2009/04/poem-for-my-friends-i-really-miss-them.html' title='poem for my friends.. i really miss them.. my old grupee:('/><author><name>xakerz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16405635200970372299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MpvMVCY0fKc/SbivfWTrCII/AAAAAAAAAAM/EVdUId87NxE/S220/Fyem055.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2254659102826621827.post-4145739330198932196</id><published>2009-03-11T22:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T23:29:18.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bid of goodbye</title><content type='html'>When I first stepped to the classroom of St. Therese, everything in me was shaking. Thoughts of negative clouded my mind not even thinking of one positive thing that may happen during my stay on that classroom. At first, I had a hard time talking with my classmate--new classmates, because, I admit I was not comfortable that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Therese class was composed of intelligent students, who have the higher intellectual ability among the other classes of my batch. And most of the students of that class were classmates since before. Me, as a stranger of them thought negatively pertaining their attitude because I was not used of having classmates that are more intelligent ( i think) than me. One more thing, this class has only 11 boys. I was surrounded with funny boys since I started highschool. Again, i thought that this class would be boring because there are no boys that will  interrupt the teachers while discussing just to insert stupid yet funny jokes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what, I was absolutely wrong. My perceptions about that class were not the ones I saw as I stay inside that classroom. May be there are the fights, but I think it is common in all classes of highcschool. They were not that high, they are just like the ordinary ones that know how and when to joke. And I think, that erased the boredom thingy that i had thought before. Laughter filled the four cormers of the room as everyone shouts for a petition to have not a quiz. Scattered candy wrappers, food wrappers and everything. Yeah, we love eating, no matter what time it is, who the teacher is and what subject is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, of course, I would always love to reminisce the times we open our bluetooth and share the answers during our quiz!lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoa. Everything fell in their places as the school year ends. No more gaps. No more fights. No more contradictions. Everyone is united, everyone are friends. LOve has already reign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, everytime that ending is near, that's the only time that everyone will be happy, and will be friends. May be too late yet we all know that times spending with each other may end but momeries never fade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2254659102826621827-4145739330198932196?l=xakerz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xakerz.blogspot.com/feeds/4145739330198932196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://xakerz.blogspot.com/2009/03/bid-of-goodbye.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2254659102826621827/posts/default/4145739330198932196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2254659102826621827/posts/default/4145739330198932196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xakerz.blogspot.com/2009/03/bid-of-goodbye.html' title='bid of goodbye'/><author><name>xakerz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16405635200970372299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MpvMVCY0fKc/SbivfWTrCII/AAAAAAAAAAM/EVdUId87NxE/S220/Fyem055.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
