<?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-7154187</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:15:04.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Un long dimanche de fiancailles</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>71</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-112627650749338928</id><published>2005-09-09T07:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-09T07:35:07.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>blog is going wonky!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-112627650749338928?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/112627650749338928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=112627650749338928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112627650749338928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112627650749338928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/09/blog-is-going-wonky.html' title=''/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-112602259249760936</id><published>2005-09-06T08:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-06T09:03:12.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh Gads! The manager of Chef d'Angelo called me up to say he's interested about my green tea!!! They're planning to serve it in all the branches! We'll be arranging a meeting and I'll submit my proposal! Wow!!! I really wanna close this deal! *happy and windang* I hope I close the deal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *jumps happily*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-112602259249760936?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/112602259249760936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=112602259249760936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112602259249760936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112602259249760936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/09/oh-gads-manager-of-chef-dangelo-called.html' title=''/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-112536645003648245</id><published>2005-08-29T18:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-29T18:47:43.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;table style="BORDER-RIGHT: #eeffee 3px outset; BORDER-TOP: #eeffee 3px outset; BACKGROUND: #eeffee; MARGIN: 10px; BORDER-LEFT: #eeffee 3px outset; BORDER-BOTTOM: #eeffee 3px outset" cellpadding="4"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: 1px inset; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: 1px inset; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; BACKGROUND: #bbeebb; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; BORDER-LEFT: 1px inset; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 1px inset; TEXT-ALIGN: center" colspan="2"&gt;&lt;a href="&lt;a"&gt;Doctor&lt;/a&gt; Unheimlich&lt;/a&gt; has diagnosed me with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Matteo matthew's Disease&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Cause&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;influence of the Devil&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Symptoms&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;extreme dolphin noises, green spots, wrist swelling, extreme dizziness&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Cure&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;bleach&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=2 style="background:#bbeebb; padding:5px;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-112536645003648245?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/112536645003648245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=112536645003648245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112536645003648245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112536645003648245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/08/hrefdoctor-unheimlich-has-diagnosed-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-112522594412737437</id><published>2005-08-28T03:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-28T03:45:44.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've come in contact with some tactless titas, abrasive acquaintances and really just insensitive friends. They're usually the ones who seem to know exactlt the wrong things to say at the worst possible times. argh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had my share of hirits that made me wanna whack them with a chair. An acquaintance would say O, tumataba ka na or the equally infuriating O, ang laki mo ngayun ha? From a distant relative. But these are by far the funniest ones:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On relationships...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. When I was single...&lt;br /&gt;Tita 2: O, ba't wala ka pang boyfriend/fafa?&lt;br /&gt;Matthew: Are you kidding? I'm having such a blast being single noh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. When I was dating...&lt;br /&gt;Acquaintance 1: Ba't sya? You can definitely do better...&lt;br /&gt;Matthew: Oo nga, you're right. So how do you survive with your boyfriend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.When I'm blissfully coupled...&lt;br /&gt;Beloved Tita #1: You're always together. Nagiging magkamukha na kayo!&lt;br /&gt;Matthew: Whew! Buti na lang pareho kaming gwapo! hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In school...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vincent de Paul's asshole of the year: I knew you couldn't do it. *smug*&lt;br /&gt;Matthew: *smiling* I knew you couldn't either...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mga too close for comfort...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.&lt;br /&gt;Acquaintance: Alam mo, magpapayat ka na! Ang taba taba mo na eh! *disgusted*&lt;br /&gt;Matthew: Tara! Sabay tayo! hehehe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.&lt;br /&gt;Same Aquaintance: Uy! Loko lang! Ang sensitive mo naman! (after being joked about the same topic for the nth time)&lt;br /&gt;Matthew: Sus! Okay lang noh! Tara libre kita ng brazilian wax! *laughs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During everyday encounters...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.Impatient sales people&lt;br /&gt;Bitchy saleswoman: Sir, ano? Bibilhin nyo na ba?&lt;br /&gt;Matthew: Bakit? Naiinip ka na?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Socialite wannabes&lt;br /&gt;Socialite Wannabe of the year: *smokes cigarette* Alam mo, I have that shirt you're wearing. (sarcastically saying) Very Original!&lt;br /&gt;Matthew: Does it look as good on you,  too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well... I was bored. I didn't even know why I'm posting this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to church after two months of absence. I missed my pastor's voice. Hearing him pray is very soothing and it gives me goosebumps. We'd always have a small talk before I leave. He said he missed me and he hasn't seen me for a while. He looked alarmed. I just blurted out "Pastor Ed, I was busy." We shook hands and My parents and I left the church na.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had lunch at RaiRaiKen somewhere near Harrison Plaza. I wasn't really hungry and what I wanted was a cigarette. But I couldn't smoke because I left my money at home to save it. So I just ordered a California Maki and my spinster parents (My Mom and my Beloved Tita baby) were talkin for an hour about my lolo's rather malicious theory about my neighbor's brother and her maid. He said he got her knocked up because we had a power failure  a few days ago and it was the perfect chance for my neighbors' brother (para gapangin yung katulong) kasi nakita daw nyang nagsusuka. My mother and I were disgusted but laughing nevertheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From Harrison Plaza, we dropped off my tita to Folk Arts Theater (that's where our church is) because she has classes to attend. Then we asked the cabbie to drop us off in glorietta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some strange reason, I wanted yet another new shirt. I asked my mom for one so we went to Oxygen. I went through some shirts that I really like but suddenly, I didn't feel like buying. Yeah, its for free but I suddenly changed my mind. That's weird. People know I'm not the type who'd turn down a shirt for free. Even I know i wouldn't, But I just didn't want to buy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom wanted to grab some snacks but I wasn't hungry. Heck I just gobbled 8 pieces of California Maki! But she said she was hungry so we went to TGI Fridays. *Tangina! Ang yaman talaga ng nanay ko!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ordered But I didn't want to eat. I delayed my attack on the Chicken Fingers. She was browsing through Cosmo while I smoked some dunhills... After a good 30 mins, we started eating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to National Bookstore to purchase a Spanish-English dictionary. I was with my lola yesterday who said my spanish was improving immensely. Needs more practice pero promising daw! hehehe! I've always wanted to learn spanish ever since I was a little boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I still don't know why I wrote everything that happened today... *sighs while smiling*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-112522594412737437?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/112522594412737437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=112522594412737437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112522594412737437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112522594412737437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/08/ive-come-in-contact-with-some-tactless.html' title=''/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-112467773243124734</id><published>2005-08-21T18:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-21T19:28:52.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Bang Bang (My baby shot me down)&lt;br /&gt;Artist: Nancy Sinatra.&lt;br /&gt;Ost- Kill Bill Vol 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was five and he was six&lt;br /&gt;we rode on horses made of sticks&lt;br /&gt;he wore black and i wore white&lt;br /&gt;he would always win the fight&lt;br /&gt;bang, bang he shot me down&lt;br /&gt;bang, bang i hit the ground&lt;br /&gt;bang, bang that awful sound,&lt;br /&gt;bang bang, my baby shot me down.&lt;br /&gt;seasons came and changed the time,&lt;br /&gt;when i grew up i called him mine&lt;br /&gt;he would always laugh and say&lt;br /&gt;remember when we used to play&lt;br /&gt;bang bang i shot you down&lt;br /&gt;bang bang you hit the ground&lt;br /&gt;bang bang that awful sound&lt;br /&gt;bang bang i used to shoot you down&lt;br /&gt;music played and people sang&lt;br /&gt;just for me the church bells rang&lt;br /&gt;now he's gone i don't know why&lt;br /&gt;and to this day sometimes i cry&lt;br /&gt;he didn't even say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;he didn't take the time to lie&lt;br /&gt;bang, bang he shot me down,&lt;br /&gt;bang bang i hit the ground&lt;br /&gt;bang, bang that awful sound,&lt;br /&gt;bang bang my baby shot me down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-112467773243124734?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/112467773243124734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=112467773243124734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112467773243124734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112467773243124734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/08/bang-bang-my-baby-shot-me-down-artist.html' title=''/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-112418608635709973</id><published>2005-08-16T02:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-16T03:39:06.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yet another survey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of random things...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) What did you have for breakfast today?&lt;br /&gt;Waffles with whipped Cream and peaches on top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) Last Person You've spoken to on the phone?&lt;br /&gt;Erm... I think it's Larcie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.)Last Movie you watched?&lt;br /&gt;Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. *Ooompa Loompa*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.)Last DVD you watched?&lt;br /&gt;Spanglish. Watched it last night. *Yawns*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.)Music you're hearing right now?&lt;br /&gt;Malaguena Salerosa by Chingon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angst, Angst and more Angst...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) When was the last time you've ever plotted someone's death?&lt;br /&gt;2 weeks ago. My adviser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.) Ever hated someone so much, you've punched walls, cried your heart out, smoked a pack of cigs, got drunk as a skunk?&lt;br /&gt;Damn yeah! She was a nightmare! Wolf in sheep's clothing talaga! Finally I've gotten rid of her! Never been happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.) Ever tried to get back at the person who's on top of your hate list?&lt;br /&gt;Nope. Between that person and me, I'm definitely sure I'm the happy one. *smiles*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.) Do you hate your body?&lt;br /&gt;I do now. *sighs sadly*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things about you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.) My maids used to say that If I don't finish my lunch or dinner, a white lady will come to my room and strangle me. I didn't know that that white lady was an eating disorder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.) When I was at the peak of my kapayatan, my friends didn't know that I eat food and my family thought I was either having an eating disorder or I was starting to be a druggie. My sister didn't do much to help though. I saw a picture of myself during those thin times, lookin like an alien from Mars Attacks. I realized I had to un mary-kate myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 5 things that scare the shit out of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ranking at #1. Snakes!!! *shudder*&lt;br /&gt;2.) More snakes&lt;br /&gt;5.)More and more snakes.&lt;br /&gt;4.)Heights&lt;br /&gt;5.)Ghosts. People, you can kick the shit out of them. Ghosts, you cant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 5 things you can never live without.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Sex!!!! Hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;2.) My mobile phone.&lt;br /&gt;3.) My DVD player.&lt;br /&gt;4.) Money.&lt;br /&gt;5.) Clothes (whether they're classics or trends that I like)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The people behind your happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ranking at #1 and far from the rest... Peloy.&lt;br /&gt;2.) My mommy Loi.&lt;br /&gt;3.) My tita Baby and Larcie.&lt;br /&gt;4.) My real mom.&lt;br /&gt;5.) My siblings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your top 10 Fashion essestials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Basic polos in colors like white, black, navy blue and gray.&lt;br /&gt;2.) A black Suit.&lt;br /&gt;3.) At least three pairs of jeans.&lt;br /&gt;4.) Slacks in Black, Navy blue, and Gray.&lt;br /&gt;5.) White Pants and Khaki chinos&lt;br /&gt;6.) Turtlenecks in colors like Black, White, Navy blue and Gray.&lt;br /&gt;7.)  Basic tees.&lt;br /&gt;8.) Baby blue tee with three white stripes on the shoulders with white piping on the sleeves and jogging pants.&lt;br /&gt;9.) 3/4 shorts. I like them more than the usual shorts.&lt;br /&gt;10.) A caseball cap, a newsboy hat and several beanies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your top 10 beauty essentials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) L'oreal White Perfect spiked with SPF 50.&lt;br /&gt;2.) L'oreal Sheer Cashmere in Nude.&lt;br /&gt;3.) L'oreal Pure Zone Facial Scrub.&lt;br /&gt;4.) L'oreal Pure Zone Anti Blemish Gel&lt;br /&gt;5.) L'oreal Out of Bed hair product.&lt;br /&gt;6.) Chapstick in Mint.&lt;br /&gt;7.) Fresh's Tee Tree Soap.&lt;br /&gt;8.) Vaseline lotion for so many reasons.&lt;br /&gt;9.) VMV armada sunscreen with SPF 70.&lt;br /&gt;10.) Cetaphil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cloud Nine. *Things to acquire before death*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Finish College and get a nice job.&lt;br /&gt;2.) Get Married in Amsterdam with Peloy.&lt;br /&gt;3.) Own a perfectly wonderful house somewhere in either Ortigas or Quezon City.&lt;br /&gt;4.) Own at least two cars. A black Mercedes Benz and a Bronze Toyota Fortuner.&lt;br /&gt;5.) Achieve a Male Supermodel body.&lt;br /&gt;6.) Have at least two children.&lt;br /&gt;7.) See London, New York and Paris.&lt;br /&gt;8.) See Madonna in Person.&lt;br /&gt;9.) Own a beach house or a perfectly wonderful rest house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Faints*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-112418608635709973?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/112418608635709973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=112418608635709973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112418608635709973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112418608635709973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/08/yet-another-survey.html' title=''/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-112415356382198587</id><published>2005-08-15T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-15T18:04:46.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Counting the days</title><content type='html'>Reasons to return to my homestudy program:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) The sheer laziness of waking up early in the morning and skipping breakfast because you're running late, hailing a cab only to pray that the driver will smash the cab into a speeding bus just so you won't go to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) Dragging your ass to school to face an adviser who doesn't like you primarily because you make her original advisory students look bad by being smarter than the most of them. Heck, you're even smarter than her! And let me remind you that you were only transferred from St. Peter (Section two) to St. Vincent de Paul (the section one) in two weeks. It takes at least three months. Not only are you a transferee student, you're being an exception to some rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) Having to put up with all their ridiculous rules. Meaning, No computer shops even after classes, no bringing of mobile phones, they'll frisk you to make sure you're not carrying one and they'll check on your bag too. Also, no spiky hairstyle and accessories. Erm... I have a life outside this classroom. I need a computer and my mobile phone after classes. Screw the spiky hairstyle and accessories. It doesn't diminish my intellect. My academic perfomance won't be impaired by a simple leaf necklace (which peloy gave me on our 5th monthsary.) No hanging out with the guidance counselors and other non teaching personnel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) Having to deal with some of your not-so-new classmates insecurities by hearing them bitch about you being assigned as the leader by most of your subject teachers, Being one of the chosen actors in the Communication Arts, and finally, being the schoolpaper's Managing Editor, yes I turned down the Editor-in-Chief position.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) Hearing your own adviser yak at you in an almost daily basis for being late and your constant absences blah blah blah ad infinitum. She doesn't recognize your academic achievements but manages to commend you for being acknowledged by the discipline coordinator as "Best Dressed" in school. Almost the perfect example for students to follow. Immaculately clean polos, pressed slacks, hankerchief, nice shoes, nice hairstyle, blah blah blah. *retching in slow mo*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) Being constantly stressed out and always feeling tired. Enough Said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.) No longer having free time for myself and my loved ones. Imagine Peloy's sacrifices. *blush*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 10 days of MIA, yesterday I've decided to give my school my five days notice. My discipline coordinator tried to talk me into not leaving. My guidance counselor wants me to think things through (which I have) and i told them that my decision is final.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've informed most of my teachers that I'm leaving. Some were sad, some were indifferent but my adviser was all smiles when I informed her. She didn't yak anymore. She was just quiet about the entire thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By tomorrow till friday, it will be our first quarter periodical exam. After that I am no longer required to report to class and I can return to my homestudy program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest, I'm not sure if I'm making the right decision. There's some sadness lingering inside me because despite all the cons I mentioned earlier, I know I'll miss it. But I also know that if I don't leave now, I might go nuts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-112415356382198587?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/112415356382198587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=112415356382198587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112415356382198587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112415356382198587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/08/counting-days.html' title='Counting the days'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-112158164745286296</id><published>2005-07-16T22:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-16T23:27:27.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>These are entries that I've written on my notebook since I haven't had the time to update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, July 10&lt;br /&gt;My cousin CJ and I were already too late to have our books signed in fully booked, greenhills. *sighs* We arrived at around 3pm. I made him fall in line because I still have to go to Peloy's house to give him Gem's comic book. I stayed in Peloy's house till 7pm. *winks* Had to rush back to greenhills only to find out that we couldn't have our books signed anymore. *sulks* I kept telling myself that I can't skip classes tommorow just for Neil Gaiman to actually sign my book. I've missed enough lessons. Hey! Am tryin to be noble here! hehehe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we reached glorietta, CJ and I went to universe to check our e-mails. He said he's going to gateway at 5am tomorrow to meet Neil Gaiman. I just sighed and said, go ahead. I can't take you there though because I have classes. And he started tempting me and goes like, &lt;em&gt;aww Matt. You're so noble. Choosing a day of stupid lessons over Neil Gaiman. Oh come on, you know better than that! Join me tomorrow&lt;/em&gt; and he starts caressing my arm for more effect. Asshole!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went home feelin a bit disappointed but a part of me was considering what CJ said. Maybe I should miss class to have my book signed. After all, when I was burning out in school, I feigned sickness so I can skip it. Why not skip it again for Neil? *sleeps*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday, July 11&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up early and made up my mind to skip class to run to gateway. I was almost ready to run till my mom said &lt;em&gt;wait sabay tayo. I need to go to work early.&lt;/em&gt; Shit! So much for skipping. She's dropping me off to school. *panics*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the cab, she saw me frowning and clenching my fists. She asked me, &lt;em&gt;what's the matter anak? Bakit parang galit ka? &lt;/em&gt;I just had to tell her,&lt;em&gt; I don't want to go to school ma. I want to have my booked signed by Neil Gaiman.&lt;/em&gt; She freaked out and we had a mini argument. I begged her because today is the last day of the book signing. School isn't leaving. Neil is leaving. I broke down infront of her. She gave in and said &lt;em&gt;I'm doing this once okay? One time lang! Di na to mauulit. Promise me that.&lt;/em&gt; Of course I promised her that and I will keep that promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking in Ayala early in the morning made me realize how much I've missed doing that. Back in elementary, I'd skip classes and run to McDonald's greenbelt to have breakfast and wander around area and the sun isn't hot yet and I felt really calm. That's how I felt again. Then I took the MRT from Ayala all the way to gateway and asked around for directions.  I saw CJ and he was glad to see him. I mock scolded him and said &lt;em&gt;i'm here because you tempted me you asshole!&lt;/em&gt; He laughed and was amused that he was able to get to me that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The line was made up of very interesting people. From Artists, to writers and geeks, even call center agents were in line to have their books signed. I knew that it was going to be a long wait. Shortly after that, I met Al who introduced me to Maia who apparently was also in line. Yey! More company. Then April approached me. But since I was already in line and we were already given our numbers, Al and April had to fall in line as well. CJ and Maia started talking and I accompanied Al and April at the ground floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 12pm, we were told that Neil Gaiman will arrive at 4pm. So that's another four hours. I decided to go home to have lunch and change. After that I ran back to gateway. I received Peloy's txt and he was already looking for me. He was already there! *smiles* So I went back in line with our books. Peloy was with Bengki, Marc and Gem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The book signing started. Since CJ and I were very early, we didn't have to wait that long anymore. Some of the girls we met there were starting to cry tears of joy and its kinda cute to see that. I mean, I like Neil Gaiman so I sorta know how they feel. I was happy as well. Happy for them, for myself, for everyone who made it there. I felt really good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we entered fully booked, time started to really slow down. I was breathing heavily and held Maia's hand while saying &lt;em&gt;This is it Maia.&lt;/em&gt; I didn't know what to do anymore. Should I have my picture taken with him? Or should I have him on video using my phone. I couldn't think anymore. When it was my turn, He signed Peloy's American Gods and signed my Endless Nights. I said that the Endless Nights was my boyfriend's first gift for me. He introduced you to me and I'm glad he did. Neil was happy. He wrote this on my book *&lt;em&gt;To Felix and Matthew, Congratulations! May your relationship last forever* &lt;/em&gt;And oh my god oh my god oh my god! He also drew Dream on my book! I was ecstatic! 'nuff said. Ü Ü Ü Ü Ü&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-112158164745286296?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/112158164745286296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=112158164745286296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112158164745286296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112158164745286296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/07/these-are-entries-that-ive-written-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-112047315340816410</id><published>2005-07-04T02:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-04T18:09:37.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Burnout starts now.</title><content type='html'>I had a serious case of burnout yesterday morning in school. Suddenly I felt incompetent and depressed. I couldn't concentrate on my lessons, I was trying to pay attention but I was really slow. My sudden irrational depression was getting the better of me. I suddenly had the urge to drop out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I immediately went to the guidance office for counseling. My guidance councelor Christine Joy or whom I fondly call CJ gave me a stress ball. I started to let it all out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her how it started. I arrived 5 minutes late and my new adviser was furious. We had a brief talk outside the classroom. She told me that I'm starting to be a problem because I'm starting to destroy their unblemished attendance record. I've been late a total of three times already ever since I was transferred to St. Vincent de Paul. However, she said that I am one of the smartest students she could ever ask for and she's happy that I was transferred to her section but I'm starting to endanger her records. It shattered me. As CJ was trying to console me, I told her that I now have everything I never thought I could ever have. I'm respected throughout the entire school, I bagged recognitions and been hearing from students that teachers are praising me in their class. I'm the managing editor of the schoolpaper because I rejected the editor-in-chief position. I now belong to the pilot section (that's the section for the best students). But christine said something that struck me hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know there's more Matthew. I know there's more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was out with Peloy and our friends sunday night at Javi's. We were singing and drinking and basically enjoying the night. I had to cut it short because I have classes the next day. They were a bit surprised that I had to leave early. They forgot that I'm now a schoolboy. Fresh but not necessarily innocent. That's what Ely said. Oh I love that girl! Haha! Anyways, one of the biggest reasons would be, I miss my old life. As they sat down in Javi's last night, they were a reminder of something I once had and I terribly miss it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice. Ang tanga ng reason ko. *whacks myself with my size 10 shoe*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for my spark of hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She suggested that I take the PEPT test. It's an acceleration test. I can immediately jump to fourth year or first year college if I'm lucky. The exams would be on August and she said that I won't have anything to lose if I take it. If I pass, I have the chance to either be in 4th year or first year college, depending on the outcome of my exams. If I fail, I'll still be in third year and I still belong to the pilot section.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awww! CJ's a sweetheart. She wrote the requirements and the numbers for me to call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I make it. *jumps with joy*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-112047315340816410?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/112047315340816410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=112047315340816410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112047315340816410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/112047315340816410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/07/burnout-starts-now.html' title='Burnout starts now.'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-111996475771677091</id><published>2005-06-28T05:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T06:26:29.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>=)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Alla donde las montanas tocan el cielo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Alla donde el rayo parte el mar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Puedo jurar que hay alguien en algun lado, mirandome a mi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Its all I could think of writing. But watch out for tomorrow's entry. Its something really BIG! Sorry if all I've been talking about is nothing but school. After three years of mediocrity in the homestudy program, I find myself dragging my ass to school at 6am, doing assignments and explaining them, Praying in latin infront of students and impressing the hell out of nuns and teachers, copying all the notes and leading groups in different subjects. I never thought it could be this much fun. Yes it's strenuous and I sometimes want to just be absent and rest. But it is truly rewarding. I'm respected in the entire school. Students from other sections would greet me and smile, I've never had that before. Well, I get that in glorietta but I practically grew up there so that's different.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;to be continued.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-111996475771677091?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/111996475771677091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=111996475771677091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111996475771677091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111996475771677091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/06/blog-post.html' title='=)'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-111970408809922493</id><published>2005-06-25T05:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-25T05:54:48.166-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Splat!</title><content type='html'>First and foremost, I've been doing great in school and according to most of my teachers, if I keep it up, I'll be an honor student. I've been doing the best I can and I've been doing great. I've been pushing myself like a hard charging CEO. I've been offered the Editor-in-chief position for the school paper, constantly participating in all subjects. Leading groups in various subjects. When the classroom is noisy and a teacher would call me to recite, everybody shuts up to listen to what I have to say. I've never had that before. Please don't take it away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't make things harder for me. I'm starting to clean up my act. Don't mess it up by force feeding me your opinions of what you think is right and I must do it because you said so. I've made my decision and I am not moving in. I'll be staying in my own house, and that's final. I don't have to follow what you think is right. You can have your opinions, but don't force it. I still have the last say. The same way I always have, and it will always remain that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matthew *&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-111970408809922493?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/111970408809922493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=111970408809922493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111970408809922493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111970408809922493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/06/splat.html' title='Splat!'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-111949054373120506</id><published>2005-06-22T17:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-24T06:53:53.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Intervention By Madonna.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've got to save my baby.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Because he makes me cry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've got to make him happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've got to teach him how to fly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've got take him higher.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Way up like a bird in the sky.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I got to calm him down now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I got to save his life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I know that Love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Will change us forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I know that Love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Will keep us together.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I know, I know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That there's nothing to fear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I know that love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Will take us away from here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes it's such a pleasure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I wanna tear it all down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's easy to be lazy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And hard to go away from the crowd.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I know the road looks lonely.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Bt that's just Satan's game.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And either way my baby.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Will never be the same.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I know that Love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Will change us forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I know that Love. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Will keep us together.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I know, I know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That there's nothing to fear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I know that Love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Will take us away from here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In a blink of an eye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Everything cold change.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Say hello to your life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Now you're living.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;From now on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's a brand new day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It was time to wake up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;from this dream.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I know the road looks lonely.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Bt that's just Satan's game.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And either way my baby. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Will never be the same.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I know that Love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Will change us forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I know that Love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Will keep us together..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I know, I know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That there's nothing to fear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I know that Love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Will take us away from here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the greatest moments that Peloy and I shared. We were lying on the grass of UP sunken garden, enjoying our sprite and doritos while gazing at the stars, kissing and just cuddling. We both couldn't believe it. We were in love already. For once, I wasn't scared. Scared of the feeling of falling in love and simply losing it. There was this strong sense of security that can only come from this strong feeling of love that we both felt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday morning during the flag ceremony, the Prefect of Discipline made a special announcement. I wasn't really paying attention until I heard my name. I thought she was gonna humiliate me for being late. But she congratulated me for winning first place at the essay writing contest. Everyone cheered and clapped their hands. I blushed and politely bowed. *chuckles* That felt good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, schoolwork is getting heavier. It's starting to get more strenuous and demanding. Sometimes, I wanna get sick just to rest. I already rejected the editorial position for the school paper to give way for my other subjects such as geometry and chemistry. My adviser is asking me to reconsider the offer. I mean, am being offered the editorial position which is by far the biggest recognition you can get in school and I'm rejecting it. I seriously need to think about this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so tired from school. I've been sleeping early but still, it's not enough. Sometimes, I'm wishing to catch flu just so I can stay home and rest. Today I didn't go to school because I'm late. I could be suspended or the prefect of discipline will summon my guardian and I don't want that. At least I can rest today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm... my weekends are sacred. Sacred time for Peloy. That's the only time we get to be together. But this wednesday is an exception! We're watching war of the worlds!!! Ü&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, my time is up. :D I miss you guys! I swear, once I get the hang of this, iinom tayo!!! hahaha! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-111949054373120506?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/111949054373120506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=111949054373120506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111949054373120506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111949054373120506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/06/intervention-by-madonna.html' title=''/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-111932700978706943</id><published>2005-06-20T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-20T22:07:43.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My first week in school..</title><content type='html'>Wednesday Last week&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up at 6am. Took a shower and grabbed a quick bite. After a few minutes, I put on my powder blue polo and slacks. That's our school uniform. My mom and I took the cab because I don't want to be late. As I reached the school, the Jaws soundtrack was playing on my mind, d&lt;em&gt;um dum dum dum dum. &lt;/em&gt;I stopped for a minute to actually chill out and remember the fact that I am 3 years older than any of them. No reason to be scared at all. Hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stood by the door of my classroom and politely greeted the teacher good morning. I showed him my admission slip and all he could say was &lt;em&gt;nye! Meron pa pala!&lt;/em&gt; Since there was no vacant chair, he made me sit on the teacher's chair and use the teacher's table while waitin for an armchair. My new classmates were smiling politely. You know, the pursed lip smile. I was starting to feel really awkward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The recess came and I was bombarbed with questions by my classmates. &lt;em&gt;Ay kuya, bakit ngayon ka lang pumasok? Bakit ka nag homestudy? Artista ka ba kuya? Bakit magaling kang mag english pero magaling ka ring magtagalog? Taga Amerika ka ba kuya?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;I was about to take offense by the word &lt;em&gt;kuya&lt;/em&gt; but I was sure that they meant no harm. I told em I was in a homestudy program because I chose to be there. The ice was already broken and they were already habitually using kuya and &lt;em&gt;medyo sumasakit na yung tenga ko.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, I wasn't the only 18 year old guy there. I have a classmate in glasses named Anthony. We're very much alike. He was also from this homestudy program just like me and we both want to graduate normally. We both stay in our classroom during breaks, readin up on lessons to get a headstart. In short, we became fast friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There wasn't really much action yet because its only the introduction of lessons. However, Math and English were already starting. In math, we started with geomtry. The Pythagorean Thorems, angles and triangles. In English, there was spelling. Yup. At third year, we're still required to spell words like Debt. Hehehe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was late for school cuz I didn't take the cab. Three years of homestudy program made me forget the horrendous traffic in South super highway. I was 20 minutes late. This time our first subject was a female teacher. She looks like a woman in her mid 20s, skin was pale and cool to the touch, no make up and her her was chin length. She looks warm and nice. I stood outside our door, I greeted her and my classmates good morning but she only stared at me. When I asked if I could enter her class, she said no. Not without an excuse letter. An excuse letter? I know excuse letters are needed when you're absent, not late. I told her that I was a transferee and I'm still not oriented with the rules and regulations of the school. Anthony was discreetly laughing at me. Jackass! Ü  She asked me to see the Discipline coordinator and made me secure an admission slip. Yikes. By the way, the discipline coordinator is also my Math teacher. As I secured the admission slip, I hurriedly went back to my classroom and showed it to her. She looks really surly. As soon as she read it, she dropped her act and smiled conspiratorially and said, have fun! And she laughed. *windang*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When our english teacher arrived, she made us write a letter to our dads because father's day was coming. I started writing the letter, made it a bit flowery and shit. I gave it to my teacher and she asked me If I speak spanish cuz there were spanish phrases on my letter. I said yes. She said she can speak French. She handed me an english book to read some of lessons I missed. I said &lt;em&gt;merci. Merci beaucoup.&lt;/em&gt; She almost screamed WHAT! You can also speak French? I said no. I just know a few phrases. Hehehe! Our classes ended and i went to g4 to relax.&lt;em&gt;  Ang &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;init eh.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't even remember what we did. Oh! We had to hear mass. Yup. The first friday mass. That's all I could remember. We had to edit our father's day letter. Everyone was given their letters but me. When I asked my english teacher for my letter, she said it was already in the board of judges because there's a contest! She was asking me to attend the PTA the next day so that if my letter will be chosen, my uncle and I will go up on stage, he will receive his award as best dad of the year. Can you imagine? And I will get my recognition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did win the essay writing competition. First placer in the entire school. O.O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far that's what's been happening. Been really really busy. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-111932700978706943?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/111932700978706943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=111932700978706943' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111932700978706943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111932700978706943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/06/my-first-week-in-school.html' title='My first week in school..'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-111840981735093361</id><published>2005-06-10T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-10T06:23:37.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I just wanna rant.</title><content type='html'>I've been broke for the past few days and I fuckin have fever, a horrible cough and my throat is so fuckin sore and painful, swallowing is starting to be a bitch. I was supposed to wake up at 7 am for my enrollment cuz classes will start this tuesday. Instead, I woke up at 11am. Nice. I took the cab all the way to school and waited for my mom's friend. She arrived late and we found out that there were no classes for both students and school personnel. Aaargghh! So yes, I haven't enrolled yet. I have to return on tuesday. Not knowing what to do, I just sat on one of the school's benches. My fever was only getting worse. I decided to hail a cab and go to Ayala. I don't even know why am writin this down. Whatever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-111840981735093361?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/111840981735093361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=111840981735093361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111840981735093361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111840981735093361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/06/i-just-wanna-rant.html' title='I just wanna rant.'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-111641456181646134</id><published>2005-05-18T04:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-18T04:09:21.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing School...</title><content type='html'>I've been homeschooled for quite some time now. Looking back, it wasn't the wisest decision I've ever done. I think it was the worst decision I've ever made. Now only if I could turn back time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only liked school when i was in first and second grade. Back then, everything was simple. My classmates and I co-existed quite well. I bagged lots of awards and I even managed to be one of the top students in my batch. Well, I was quite motivated to do my best before because back then, I liked it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I reached third grade, things started to change. I started to have bully classmates who'd bully me to no end. Had really bitchy teachers who would humiliate you infront of class. Slowly, I lost interest and started cutting classes. My grades decreased dramatically. From having grades like 93 up, to getting lines of seven. I completely lost interest. I would feign sickness just so I wouldn't be asked to go to school. I'd cut classes and run to glorietta. I couldn't stand being in school. That feeling was something I had to bear for four years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm not playing little Mr. Api here. Hehe! Lookin back, I felt so stupid about being scared of stupid fucks who can never do anything but bully little weaklings and lampas like me. I regret the fact that fear paralyzed my potential to be the valedictorian. I could've bagged it easily. I regret the fact that I wasn't a cool kid before. I was the short, fat and fuckin ugly dork with no concept of style or hairgel for that matter. I was an outcast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've given up on regular school when I entered my sophomore year in high school. I decided to try the homestudy program. Initially, I liked it so much. I can handle my time, my assignments and I can go to school whenever I want to. No bullies and long hours. Just finish your exam and you can leave. I had a blast but my grades were blah. Mediocre. There was no competition. I still had no drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got older. During the time that I was away from a regular school, I learned the basics of style and I've stopped being a weakling. My attitude has changed to an almost irrecognizable level. I've stopped being meek and quiet, I've learned style and changed my appearance completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never realized how much I've missed regular school till I visited my teachers in elementary sometime last year. Their faces never changed. They were still the same teachers trying to convince me to get my act right. They looked at me and tried to actually remember my name. All they remember was the kid who speaks english. We all talked and most of them were poking my sides and they were saying oh my god you're so skinny! nagdrugs ka ba before? Napariwara ka ba hijo? Hehehe! They were trying to convince me to go back to a regular school. Then one of the teachers said "You could've been the valedictorian if you didn't lose interest". That hit me. Though I remember one of em sayin that its not too late to conquer high school. I hope I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be studying in a regular school this June and I'm gonna get my act right. I don't want to wake up one day and regret that I was afraid to go to school and missed out on a lot of things. I've missed out on so much already. I wanna go back. It's calling me. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-111641456181646134?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/111641456181646134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=111641456181646134' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111641456181646134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111641456181646134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/05/missing-school.html' title='Missing School...'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-111631981919663435</id><published>2005-05-17T00:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-18T03:47:29.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Borrowed From Da. :D</title><content type='html'>1. When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?&lt;br /&gt;An Actor or a Callboy. Ü&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. What is the craziest thing you've done while on campus?&lt;br /&gt;Made out with my ex-girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. What is the craziest thing you've done at home?&lt;br /&gt;One word, COOK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. What was your first pet?&lt;br /&gt;A doberman named Cutie. The name is so gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. What did you want the most for Christmas when you were a kid?&lt;br /&gt;A playstation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. How did you find out that there was no Santa Claus?&lt;br /&gt;I think I've always known. My mom was santa claus for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Have you ever thought that you could be gay? (or if you are gay, could youhave been straight?)&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I think about it. I have a boyfriend and I intend to stay that way. I love him. Ü&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Did you ever want to be a musician or actor?&lt;br /&gt;See answer to question #1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. What is the biggest prize you've ever won?&lt;br /&gt;Erm... Aside from being a one of the top ten in elementary? I won the declamation contest back in fifth grade. I played satan. Watched Devil's Advocate before performing. Al Pacino's a genius!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Do you have medical problems?&lt;br /&gt;No. Or at least not that I know of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Do you have psychological problems?&lt;br /&gt;I hope not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. What is the meanest thing you've ever done to someone you hate?&lt;br /&gt;I had my revenge on the biggest bully in class. His shoelaces were undone and I stepped on it and he fell. That was sooooo evil. But I felt no emotion. Ugh I must be sooo bad! hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. What is the meanest thing you've ever done to someone you like?&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. What is your highest score on snake?&lt;br /&gt;800 plus. Am not really good at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Describe the skankiest pair of underwear you own.&lt;br /&gt;Erm... wala eh. They're all new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. What is the least amount of clothing you have ever worn in public?&lt;br /&gt;Just shorts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. What is your size? (Girls- numbers AND letter please. Boys- in inches, we don't use the metric system. )&lt;br /&gt;Erm... Pants Size? 32. Shirt size? Small. Shoe Size? 9.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. What is the most fun date you've ever been on?&lt;br /&gt;The date with Peloy where we went to Quiapo to watch a Gay stage play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Did you ever chat online? If you do, or have, have you ever had an EB? What was your chat handle?&lt;br /&gt;Yes I was a former chatter. And not only that, I was the head operator. EB? Yeah. Chathandle? HyPeRBaLLaD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. What is the best present you have ever given? Received?&lt;br /&gt;Received? A choco peppermint cake from Bizu for my 18th birthday. Given by Peloy.&lt;br /&gt;Given? Nah. I don't even keep track of stuff I give.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. What is the most romantic thing you have ever done?&lt;br /&gt;Secret. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. What is the most romantic thing that someone has ever done for you?&lt;br /&gt;Choosing me to be the one to spend his entire life with. *blush*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. What is your favorite breakfast food?&lt;br /&gt;Fitness from Nestle served with Magnolia Melon Milk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Do you remember the time before blue mm's?&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. I'm not sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. What was your favorite Halloween costume?&lt;br /&gt;Wore a black long sleeved shirt, black slacks and a matte silver tie which I borrowed from my uncle. I couldn't determine if I wanted to be Kevin Lomax or Milton of Devil's Advocate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Do you know how to change a diaper?&lt;br /&gt;Yup! I love babies! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. What kind of death are you the most afraid of?&lt;br /&gt;Struck by lightning, shark attack or snake bites. *shudder*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. What is your favorite baby picture of yourself?&lt;br /&gt;I was surrounded by my stuff toys and I was beside my favourite cousin Adelein who died in 1996. We were so happy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. What can you do really fast?&lt;br /&gt;Be fuckin angry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. At what age did you learn about the birds and the bees? Who told you all about it?&lt;br /&gt;Watched my first ever porn when I was 10 years old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. What is your ideal job?&lt;br /&gt;A high paying job as fashion editor or a critically acclaimed actor. Someone like Al Pacino or the male Dakota Fanning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. What is your earliest memory?&lt;br /&gt;Being inside a car from where I believed was Tokyo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. What is your favorite facial feature?&lt;br /&gt;Eyes and Lips. They're very sensual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. If your life were a movie, who would play you and what would its title be?&lt;br /&gt;Skipping this question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. When did you get your first kiss (w/ tongue)? How was it?&lt;br /&gt;I was 13. With my ex-girlfriend. It was okay. Tastes like chicken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. Have you ever watched porn?&lt;br /&gt;Erm... YEAH. Lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of times... *grin*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. Are you able to say someone of the same sex is hot?&lt;br /&gt;Yup of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. Have you ever had a pen pal?&lt;br /&gt;That is soooo 80's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. What do you think of long distance relationships?&lt;br /&gt;Sucks big time. But if you started out as a normal couple, I think it wouldn't be so bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. What is the stupidest thing you have ever done while drunk or stoned?&lt;br /&gt;Drunk? Drove a car. Stoned? Hit on my sister's friend who looks like Amy Lee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41. Has anyone ever told you that you look like someone famous? If yes, who? If no, who do you think you look like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. I heard a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Richard Gutierrez.&lt;br /&gt;2.) Jay-R (when wearin a beanie)&lt;br /&gt;3.) Elvis Presley (eyes)&lt;br /&gt;4.) Ricky Martin. *gags*&lt;br /&gt;5.)Brian Homecillo of ABS-CBN. I agree. People actually thought I was on TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. What is your favorite candy?&lt;br /&gt;KitKat chunky white, Ghirardelli's mint chocolate, the Baci dark chocolate with chopped hazelnuts. The best!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46. What's your favorite body part?&lt;br /&gt;My brain. Haven't used it for quite some time. Needs intensive exercise. =p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47. What were you surprised to find out you were really good at?&lt;br /&gt;Convincing people. Thats why everyone likes me in First Quadrant. hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48. If you had an eject button on your computer, who would you want to eject?&lt;br /&gt;Pathetic beings such as...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49. Who was your first crush (famous)?&lt;br /&gt;Milla Jovovich. During the fifth element times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50. Who was your first REAL crush (not famous)?&lt;br /&gt;Back when I was such a dork, i had a crush on this girl in sixth grade. Her name is Hazel. She found out about it. She said &lt;em&gt;whaaaat? si Matt? Putangina ang panget!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;51. Who was your prom date? Did you regret it?&lt;br /&gt;I'll find out. I'm only 3rd year high school. lemme get back to you as soon as I finish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52. Which local celebrity do you secretly have the hots for?&lt;br /&gt;Currently? None.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;53. What always makes you laugh?&lt;br /&gt;People fucking up with my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;54. What always makes you cry?&lt;br /&gt;The thought of losing someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;55. Do you have a relative that you would still be friends with if youweren't related? Who is it?&lt;br /&gt;My cousin Monille. She's been loyal to me all these years. She was there to be happy for me, and held my hand throughout the times I've been in despair. She never left me hanging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;56. What's the most disgusting thing you've ever eaten?&lt;br /&gt;Liver. Gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;57. What is your fashion fantasy item?&lt;br /&gt;Neo's costume in Matrix Reloaded. The sleek trench coat.&lt;br /&gt;The latest RayBan Aviators. I'm one of the lucky few who can pull it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;58. What's your favorite movie moment?&lt;br /&gt;When Aaron and Christian were serendipitously reunited in Lila's restaurant. Latter Days! Latter Days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;59. If chosen for Survivor, what would you take as your luxury item?&lt;br /&gt;A bottle of Martini.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;60. If stranded on a desert island, what ten CDs would you take with you?&lt;br /&gt;1.)Peloy's mp3 collection which he burned for me as a gift.&lt;br /&gt;2.)Derek's Madonna collection which he also burned for me.&lt;br /&gt;3.)My own compilation of my 18 favourite songs.&lt;br /&gt;4.)The Next Best Thing Soundtrack.&lt;br /&gt;5.)Kill Bill Soundtrack.&lt;br /&gt;6)Blondie's no exit album.&lt;br /&gt;7.)Bjork's Post and Greatest hits.&lt;br /&gt;8.)War of the Worlds' soundtrack.&lt;br /&gt;9.)Troy's soundtrack.&lt;br /&gt;10.) Anything with Henry Mancini's Moonriver or Audrey Hepburn's version.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;61. ...what ten books would you take with you?&lt;br /&gt;1.) Anne Hooper's Kama sutra.&lt;br /&gt;2.) Candace Bushnell's Sex and The City.&lt;br /&gt;3.) Jessica Zafra books for sheer entertainment.&lt;br /&gt;4.) Somewhere between dinner and the morning after.&lt;br /&gt;5.) The Candidate's Wife.&lt;br /&gt;6.) Sandman By Neil Gaiman.&lt;br /&gt;7.) 100 years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez&lt;br /&gt;8.) Milan Kundera's Unbearable lightness of being.&lt;br /&gt;9.) Oscar's night Vanity Fair.&lt;br /&gt;10.) If magazines would count, my August 2004 issue of Vogue. The Presley Women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;62. What body part do you love observing on the opposite gender?&lt;br /&gt;Eyes, Lips, Chest and Butt. *winkwink*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;63. What Jeopardy category would you love to be quizzed on?&lt;br /&gt;Anything but Math.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;64. What Jeopardy category would you hate to be quizzed on?&lt;br /&gt;Math. Still have to flex mathematical muscles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;65. If you were to make a CD for making out, what songs would you burn for it?&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;All is full of love by Bjork. Cuddling? Rivermaya's You'll be safe here. I like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;66. What do you wish people would stop twitting you about?&lt;br /&gt;My fucking hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;67. Which Hogwarts house do you think you would belong to?&lt;br /&gt;Gryffindor house. Although sometimes I believe its Slytherin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;68. Have you ever had a moment that made you believe in serendipity?&lt;br /&gt;Yup. Lots of times na. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;69. What college moment would you like to forget?&lt;br /&gt;I'll have to get to college first. Hehe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;70. What college moment do you wish you could have frozen in time?&lt;br /&gt;Erm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;71. What is your ultimate comfort food?&lt;br /&gt;Steak and Pasta! Or Sisig! Yeah its heart attack on a plate, but its so good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;72. What were you known for in high school?&lt;br /&gt;The rich english speakin actor/model. Pathetic isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;73. If you were a shoe, what shoe would you be?&lt;br /&gt;A classic black leather shoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;74. Who would you like to see bawling their eyes out at your funeral?&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't know. I know some people who will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;75. Name an unfulfilled childhood wish.&lt;br /&gt;Learning Taekwondo and learning to fire a gun. I got my hands into a gun though. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;76. Tell us a secret.&lt;br /&gt;Thats why it's called a secret. It cannot be told. Otherwise it would no longer be a secret.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-111631981919663435?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/111631981919663435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=111631981919663435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111631981919663435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111631981919663435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/05/borrowed-from-da-d.html' title='Borrowed From Da. :D'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-111441047643846125</id><published>2005-04-24T22:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-24T23:27:56.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding a new apartment</title><content type='html'>My mom and I decided to move out of Taguig to find an apartment somewhere very close to her office in Makati.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started going through the daily paper, lookin for apartment ads. I've been searchin and searchin and searchin and I see nothing but either for ladies only or the pay is a lot higher than our budget. We spent the night at the company office which is actually a residential townhouse and decided to start looking again the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up at 8:00 am. Apparently, there are three apartments for rent in the same block where my mom works.&lt;br /&gt;So I wasted no time and started looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The first one was right infront of my mom's office, the place was hot and it's a bit cramped and it feels like you're in a fuckin sauna. You have to share the kitchen and the bathroom with other tenants. Erm... no thanks. However the landlady was nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second one was located in the opposite end of the block. It's two houses away from the crime scene of the slain relative of FVR. The gay landlord showed us the place but there's too much house rules like No noise, no visitors and no pets. Erm... that's like living in my old house.  Also I have to share the kitchen and the bathroom with other tenants again. I hate sharin bathrooms with people i don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third one is right across the St. Clare hospital. The second floor was very spacious, we have our own bathroom which is very decent, a very spacious bedroom complete with wooden floors an a terrace. I was wowed by the place and the landlady was very nice! Turns out, my mom's officemate and the landlady were good friends! She offered the place at a very cheap price. It was a steal! My mom immediately went there and also fell in love with the place. So we're renting it! ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to SM department store to buy things that we'd need like glasses and plates. I also went to the appliances section to look for a sturdy electric fan (we need at least two), and finally the groceries for food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After two hours, I was carryin 3 grocery bags fileld with disinfectants, food and toiletries. As for the electric fans, I can always come back later cuz I don't know which one to get yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am happy with moving out and starting something better. Happy for my mom that her office is a good 50 meter walk from home. Happy for her that she won't have to endure that much pressure. Happy for myself because this is our place now. &lt;em&gt;Basta magaan yung pakiramdam ko dun sa house&lt;/em&gt; and I really like it there, and my mom likes it there too! =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-111441047643846125?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/111441047643846125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=111441047643846125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111441047643846125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111441047643846125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/04/finding-new-apartment.html' title='Finding a new apartment'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-111416695155618769</id><published>2005-04-22T03:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-22T03:49:11.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Perhaps the start of despair</title><content type='html'>Ahora he perdido al unico hombre que he amado de verdad *sobs*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-111416695155618769?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/111416695155618769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=111416695155618769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111416695155618769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111416695155618769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/04/perhaps-start-of-despair.html' title='Perhaps the start of despair'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-111340291439115378</id><published>2005-04-13T07:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-13T07:35:14.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Mood: Ecstatic and full! Ü&lt;br /&gt;Listening to: The Game of Love by Michelle Branch andf Carlos Santana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Workin for Breather is sooo much fun! I get to work with my boyfriend Peloy and our friends and its so much fun, I don't feel like I'm working at all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Earlier this morning, Peloy and I, along with Ely (our restaurant reviewer) and Gem (our editorial assistant) braved the afternoon heat to go to a restaurant called Banana Leaf and Curry House in Alabang Town Center. We were there to review the food and the restaurant. The hosts George and Margaret were very nice and accomodating. We sampled at least I think around 7 dishes (excluding dessert) and let me just say that I have no more room for food tonight! Ü The food was good! Haven't really tried Malaysian Cuisine until this afternoon and its really really good! Ü&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Last week, Peloy and I, along with our photographer Tim, covered Fashion Week 2005 at the NBC tent in The Fort. Top models like (Rissa Mananquil-Samson, Nicolette Bell and Valerie De Los Santos) were strutting down the runway wearin the latest trends from prominent designers like Tippie Ocampo, JC Buendia, Raoul Ramirez and more. Luckily, I know most of the Models and they gamely posed with me while Tim clicked away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I'm pretty tired and my mind isn't really workin anymore. Will update really really soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much fun!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-111340291439115378?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/111340291439115378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=111340291439115378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111340291439115378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111340291439115378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/04/mood-ecstatic-and-full-listening-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-111140988398810758</id><published>2005-03-21T04:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-23T04:18:44.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For the best partner in the world! ^_^</title><content type='html'>*In you I found contentment that no amount of money and fame can ever amount to. In you I found serenity and calm in a world of utter chaos. Because of you I now see things in a better light. No amount of words can ever express how much I love you and how much I am thankful to have you by my side for the past several months and the years to come. You've always asked me what I wanted for my birthday and it took me forever to answer. In reality, I can't think of any answer to that because you're all that I ever wanted and needed. You've shown me love in a way I never thought possible. And that incredible feeling is something I refuse to share with anyone but you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You showed me everything about love and its entire meaning, devoid of pride and hatred. You made me complete and turned me to the ecstatically happy person that I am today. You, after baring your entire soul to me, shown me worlds of beautiful and interesting things outside my comfort zone. I am proud to share many firsts with you. I am happy that you held my hand throughout everything I needed to know. You showed me patience and understanding when I needed it. After everything we've been through and all the things we shared, I am glad that you are my man and we will share this partnership forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you Peloy! ^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-111140988398810758?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/111140988398810758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=111140988398810758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111140988398810758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/111140988398810758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/03/for-best-partner-in-world_21.html' title='For the best partner in the world! ^_^'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-110905276906245114</id><published>2005-02-21T21:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-21T22:12:49.066-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Major Updates! ^_^</title><content type='html'>*I'm in love! I have always been in love with him! We celebrated our Valentine's day in Bon Appetit glorietta but sadly it was cut short thanks to the Valentine's day bombing. It was memorable, yes it was. I was clinging onto him after the entire thing. I was scared but he was there to soothe and calm me down. He's very protective of me and I love him for that! ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I'm thinkin about repeatin third year primarily because I wanna go to a regular school already and have proper grades needed to get to UP. I've missed an important part of my childhood because of my fear of bully classmates. Now at 18, i'm 5'8, 145 lbs and definitely more confident and stronger than before, lets see if they can bully me! ^_^ Ooohhh! And there's also the prom. Yes I am no longer single but this is something any normal teenager would want to experience. I'm not hoping to be the prom king. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*My First Quadrant business is still doing good and I've also ventured into another business called Resensa Green Iced Tea of Harmonde. I still have downlines in London an hopefully in places like Los Angeles, New Jersey and New York. I'm still workin on Tokyo thanks to our nikkei-jins who also believes in both Harmonde and First Quadrant. I've made arrangements with the managers of Chef D' Angelo in glorietta and they'd like to sample it and inform the store owner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*My mom's office was featured in I-Witness of GMA 7. The documentary was about nikkei-jins or people with japanese blood. The Japanese community is aiming to reunite these nikkei-jins with their families in Japan. After the show, more nikkei-jins started calling my mom because she's the head of that department and as a result, she's got more people to help and she feels good about that. Another reason to feel good is her commissions! (insert evil laughter here) $_$&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I've decided not to get a 6600 anymore because I'm in love with the Nokia 7610. Still makin pa-goodshot kay mom about the entire thing. I'm also eyeing the nokia 7200 because its only 11k and its a flip-top phone, it's cute and it's got a camera. However, I might get a 7610 via Globe plan subscription. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I'm already a level 50 assassin in Khan! Yey! As you all know, khan is a game and Peloy and I enjoy and we play it regularly. We may not always meet in person but we always have this Khan Date. We meet online, kill monsters alongside each other exchange I love yous and I miss yous. It's just really fun. Heck we're beginning to be one powerhouse couple there! ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I saw Constantine with him last night. Sad to say, it's a movie you simply watch for special effects. I was actually ready to forgive Keanu Reeves' bad acting. ^_^ Rachel Weisz was also there and I find her really beautiful. Saw Runaway Jury again before going to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Starting next week, I'll be going to the gym near my house in Makati because I've already gained a notable amount of weight and some of my clothes no longer fit. I just have to lose 10 pounds and build some muscles and i'm fine. Not aiming to look like a bouncer. I'm still happy wearing size small shirts and size 32 pants. Now am bloated and am wearin a size 33. Will easily go back to size 32 before my birthday which is March 18.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Speaking of birthdays, I'm about to turn 18 in less than 30 days... ^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-110905276906245114?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/110905276906245114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=110905276906245114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110905276906245114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110905276906245114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/02/major-updates.html' title='Major Updates! ^_^'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-110714278970529619</id><published>2005-01-30T19:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-30T19:39:49.706-08:00</updated><title type='text'>YES, meet NO. My new friend.</title><content type='html'>Someone told me the other day that I always say yes, instinctively. I couldn't believe it. She was right. I am the victim of my own yes. Looking back, I've always found myself in iffy and uncomfortable situations wherein if I don't say yes, I'd hurt someone. As a result, I say yes and kick my own ass afterwards. *shit! duwag duwag duwag!!!* And right now, I know that it has got to STOP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aware of the fact that I have been doing this yes thing for quite some time now, I realized, this is gonna take some getting used to. Nevermind the people who will get offended. I won't be swayed by pa-guilty tactics and paawa effect anymore. I've had it. No more Mr. Nice Guy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all honesty, I'm just tired of it. I can't keep saying yes and regret why I said it in the first place. I am not saying this in a melodramatic tone. In fact, I'm feeling strangely fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel that the word No and I will be friends fast! I'm pretty excited to use it already! ^_^ The word is amazing. A two letter word containing such power that even I am afraid to use. Guess that's better than a half-hearted yes. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-110714278970529619?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/110714278970529619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=110714278970529619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110714278970529619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110714278970529619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/01/yes-meet-no-my-new-friend.html' title='YES, meet NO. My new friend.'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-110687655990881428</id><published>2005-01-27T17:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-27T17:42:39.910-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In a moment of total rage, and then some</title><content type='html'>*stares sharply at the screen*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's either you'll disappear or I'll quit. I'm not gonna sacrifice my last shred of self-esteem for someone like you. I'm gonna win. Quitting wouldn't make me lose. In one form or another, I know I'll win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Luck to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/7154187-110687655990881428?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/110687655990881428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=110687655990881428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110687655990881428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110687655990881428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2005/01/in-moment-of-total-rage-and-then-some.html' title='In a moment of total rage, and then some'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-110398899374028940</id><published>2004-12-25T07:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-25T07:36:33.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas</title><content type='html'>"Possibly Maybe"&lt;br /&gt;Your flirt finds me out.&lt;br /&gt;Teases the crack in me.&lt;br /&gt;Smittens me with hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Possibly maybe,&lt;br /&gt;Probably love.&lt;br /&gt;As much as i definitely enjoy solitude.&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't mind perhaps spending,&lt;br /&gt;little time with you&lt;br /&gt;sometimes&lt;br /&gt;sometimes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;possibly maybe,&lt;br /&gt;probably love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uncertainly excites me&lt;br /&gt;baby, who knows what's going to happen?&lt;br /&gt;lottery or car crash&lt;br /&gt;or you'll join a cult&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;possibly maybe&lt;br /&gt;probably love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mon petit vulcan&lt;br /&gt;you're eruptions and disasters&lt;br /&gt;i keep calm&lt;br /&gt;admiring your lava&lt;br /&gt;i keep calm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;possibly maybe&lt;br /&gt;probably love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since we broke up&lt;br /&gt;i'm using lipstick again&lt;br /&gt;i'll suck my tongue&lt;br /&gt;in remembrance of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its one of those bjork songs that I keep listening to before. I heard it again and felt a little sentimental. I miss Peloy. Yeah it was our monthsary yesterday and we saw each other and had a good time but today, I miss him. Yeah I'll see him tomorrow but, I dunno. I just miss him right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Christmas List.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy Loi.&lt;br /&gt;Peloy.&lt;br /&gt;Mommy Nanette.&lt;br /&gt;Ate Barbie.&lt;br /&gt;Ate Michy's kids.&lt;br /&gt;Patch.&lt;br /&gt;Reece.&lt;br /&gt;Lola.&lt;br /&gt;Gem.&lt;br /&gt;Monille.&lt;br /&gt;Mage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only gave gifts to people who matter most. I don't really want to give away gifts half-heartedly.&lt;br /&gt;I'd feel cheated and violated, so I decided to give gifts only to people who matter. It feels good. I was carrying two humongous shopping bags all the way to my mom's 5 storey condo building in Makati. I gave the gifts and seeing them smile was enough to make me feel good. I wasn't even expecting a gift, but I got one anyway. Hehehe! Now I'm tired and i'm a bit drunk but still coherent. I can still update my blog. Now, i called a cab from Xavierville. I'm expecting it to arrive in the next 10 mins. I have to go back to taguig where my mom and my tita is waiting for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Athan and Jake,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you guys and I love you guys very much. I'll be seeing you guys real soon. Just makin sure that I will have enough time cuz this week is bound to be hectic. As in hectic! Basta text me you guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My partner Shirley,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Belated Happy Birthday partner! I'm sure I joined the right group and I thank you for guiding me and showing me the ropes in First Quadrant. May you have a wonderful christmas, a spectacular birthday and a happy new year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recuerdos a todos! ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-110398899374028940?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/110398899374028940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=110398899374028940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110398899374028940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110398899374028940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/12/christmas.html' title='Christmas'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-110309282079725263</id><published>2004-12-14T22:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-14T22:40:20.796-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I woke up this morning, filled with dread. I had to go to school. I sorta had this feeling as if I'm going to parade around naked. After almost 30 mins of debating with myself, I decided to go to school and face my teachers to beg for my other assignments. Good thing I bought a Sun cellular sim card and my friend Ivan was able to alleviate my pointless paranoia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I reached my school, I apporached my adviser to give her my christmas gift. Nothing too fancy though. She asked me about my assignments, I simply said its almost done, which is true actually. I went to my History teacher and she also asked me about my assignments, I just said, its not done yet. Give me all the assignments so I can work on it. I approached my Filipino teacher and she told me that I can take the exams after christmas break. I was already feeling better but still, the real fear is still there...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before anything else, I'm gonna explain it. Our classes started last August. And after four months, for some reason, I still haven't asked for my Chemistry assignments. I couldn't face her. But today, I knew I had to do something. I apporached her and politely asked for my assignments. She was mocking her own sarcasm and decided to torture me a little. But I knew she was just being cute! A teacher told me that she's also a First Quadrant member! And the other day, we were shooting our next VCD and I'll be appearing there for more than an hour! I'm also going to be in the First Quadrant newsletter along with Ma'am Ellen! I told my teacher about it and she gave in and gave me my assignments! Yey! Apparently, cuteness sells din pala...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;continue this later...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-110309282079725263?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/110309282079725263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=110309282079725263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110309282079725263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110309282079725263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/12/i-woke-up-this-morning-filled-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-110273787059675630</id><published>2004-12-10T20:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-10T20:04:30.596-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm not sure if I've said it already. Guys, our monthsary is on Christmas Eve. Wala lang. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-110273787059675630?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/110273787059675630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=110273787059675630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110273787059675630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110273787059675630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/12/im-not-sure-if-ive-said-it-already.html' title=''/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-110234716139338736</id><published>2004-12-06T06:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-10T20:02:10.580-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Decembers...</title><content type='html'>December is definitely my favorite month. The parties, the fireworks, the gifts, the drinking sprees with both relatives and friends, the shopping, the christmas makeover, the lights around you that makes you feel inexplicably happy. For me, there's nothing to hate about december.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, am gonna share to you guys a little secret. This will be my first christmas with Peloy. Yeah some of you might say, so? Whats the big deal? Well, this is the first christmas I'll spend with a guy, and its not just any guy. Its the guy I wanna spend my entire life with. I've never loved anyone this much and experiencing this kind of first time with someone like Peloy makes me really happy. Another first actually. He was my first in almost everything. I've always been single when the holidays roll in. And I can see the way people look at me. There's the mocking/pity stare that makes me iffy and annoyed. Some would even remark, &lt;em&gt;ang lamig ng pasko mo...&lt;/em&gt; like I give a shit! Hehehe! I'm just really happy right now. Our monthsary falls on christmas eve. I have a whole lot more reasons to be happy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, i'm hosting the Taters company christmas party and I'm getting paid for it! ^_^ It's on the 21st and I still don't know what to wear. The theme is hollywood and I have exactly two weeks to decide. Peloy gave me a christmas tree and I'll be decorating it tomorrow night. *smiles in a giddy manner* We just met &lt;em&gt;kanina &lt;/em&gt;but I miss him already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-110234716139338736?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/110234716139338736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=110234716139338736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110234716139338736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110234716139338736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/12/decembers.html' title='Decembers...'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-110223750459466310</id><published>2004-12-05T01:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-05T01:05:04.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A  very sarcastic wheeeeeeeeee!!!! ^_^</title><content type='html'>I was tired because of lack of sleep. I barely had the patience to endure other people sticking their nose into my private life by bombarding me with questions left and right. Its like the jellyfish sting in Bridget Jones Diary: The Edge of Reason. Mom comes in with a questioning look on my sour face. And before I could begin my rant, those people are already in sight and I had no choice but to swallow all my &lt;em&gt;hirits.&lt;/em&gt; Shit man! That sucks. Oh well... just wanted to write. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-110223750459466310?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/110223750459466310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=110223750459466310' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110223750459466310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110223750459466310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/12/very-sarcastic-wheeeeeeeeee.html' title='A  very sarcastic wheeeeeeeeee!!!! ^_^'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-110119320798737442</id><published>2004-11-22T22:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-22T23:00:07.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Updates</title><content type='html'>Well, I still have until friday to impress clients and close more deals. For the meantime, for friends and acquaintances that I haven't been seeing lately, here's whats happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Updates&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;Its my monthsary tomorrow! Peloy and I are entering another month! Happy monthsary Baby!!! ^_^&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I closed the deal with Tim. He's officially my downline and co-business associate.&lt;br /&gt;*I closed deals with Japanese Nationals Arlene Takenouchi and Rosalie Takahashi. These people are downlines of my mon and tita baby.&lt;br /&gt;*Still working on the deal with Ma'am Ellen. Hopefully, by tonight she'll let me know.&lt;br /&gt;*Have an appointment with Jerome to discuss the marketing plans and ROI.&lt;br /&gt;*Have another appointment with the son of my mom's boss.&lt;br /&gt;*Still closing deals with bench fix stylists.&lt;br /&gt;*Still have trainings to attend to and still working on other deals.&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;I'm gaining weight Again.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*&lt;/strong&gt;Still reading Books of Magic vol 2.&lt;br /&gt;*Still reading John Maxwell's 21 Irrefutable laws of leadership.&lt;br /&gt;*Still finishing my paperwork in my spare time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the rate I'm going, I won't have time to exercise and hang out with some of you. But I guess thats okay cuz I'm cleaning up my act. People are now being happy for me! I have to take responsibility of my downlines. But of course, my family and loved ones always come first. I barely have time for myself. For once I get that feeling that I barely have time and money for myself. Yeah I have money but I gotta save it. And it surprisingly feels good that I'm spending for my loved ones. As for my friends, Jake, Drake and Athan, I miss you guys! I'll see you as soon as my workload gets lighter. Wish me luck! ^_^&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/7154187-110119320798737442?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/110119320798737442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=110119320798737442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110119320798737442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110119320798737442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/11/random-updates.html' title='Random Updates'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-110113766834819086</id><published>2004-11-22T06:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-22T22:42:37.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Leadership</title><content type='html'>Earlier this morning, I attended my first Basic Leadership Training in First Quadrant. Our speaker was Mr. Joey Almilla and he was a very good speaker. His insights on leadership was very inspiring. I learned a lot and copied notes. If I didn't attend this training, I would've kept doing things the wrong way, subsequently impeding the success of my downlines and myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lessons Learned;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Leadership is about&lt;strong&gt; Influence&lt;/strong&gt;. Leadership is to influence one's life.&lt;br /&gt;*Leaders are &lt;strong&gt;Made&lt;/strong&gt;. They are not born.&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;Humility&lt;/strong&gt; is essential in Leadership.&lt;br /&gt;*Great leaders are &lt;strong&gt;Good Followers&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qualities of a Good Leader:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1. &lt;strong&gt;ATTITUDE.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attitude is contagious. Is yours worth catching? It is best to maintain a desirable yet professional attitude towards downlines and clients. With a professional attitude, downlines and potential clients will find themselves at ease working with you, thus making it easier to trust you. With a desirable attitude, clients will find you easygoing and add good points to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2. &lt;strong&gt;GREAT LEADERS ARE BELIEVERS.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My upline Nancy Bondoc once said, &lt;em&gt;Believe first and you will see.&lt;/em&gt; Give it your 100% Belief and dedication. Know that trainings are necessary to increase your knowledge, thus cementing and increasing your belief. Attend all necessary trainings to get ahead. Be up to date and know the basics and then some. Without training, you can easily be derailed by non-believers, but with proper training, there's higher belief and understanding, making it easier for you to understand both their doubts and uncertainty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#3. &lt;strong&gt;LEADERS ARE COMMITTED.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First and foremost, a downline signed up because of his belief in the business and his belief in your ability to help him get ahead. As his or her upline, it is your duty and responsibility to acquaint and familiarize them with the Marketing Plan and the facilities. Join them as they attend trainings. Don't leave them alone until you believe in their capacity to stand on their own. They will be leaders of their own group. It is your duty to shape them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4.&lt;strong&gt; LEADERS MUST HAVE DREAMS AND DETERMINATION.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You must be determined to achieve your dreams. In some cases, failure is not the lack of knowledge but the lack of determination. Newbie downlines will get a lot of discouragement from non-believers and sadly, even friends and relatives. Basically, people perceive networking or multi level marketing as a pyramid scam and more often than not, they believe it is still the conventional networking scheme &lt;em&gt;na kung sinong nauna, yun lamang ang kumikita.&lt;/em&gt; First Quadrant has formulated a plan wherein downlines can earn bigger than their respective uplines if they work harder than them. You can't simply depend on your downlines. You still have to work to earn. Can't make your downlines to do all the work. Keyword here is Teamwork. They're success is yours and you must help them succeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#5. &lt;strong&gt;LEADERS MUST HAVE VISION, GOALS AND PLANS.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With &lt;em&gt;Vision&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;Goals and Plans,&lt;/em&gt; nothing is &lt;em&gt;impossible&lt;/em&gt;. Sometimes, it isn't the lack of time, it is the lack of vision. For your dreams to succeed, you must &lt;em&gt;have &lt;/em&gt;vision, goals and plans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#6. &lt;strong&gt;LEADERS MUST KNOW HOW TO CREATE GREATER AND WISER LEADERS.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Create better leaders to achieve results. You may never have the capacity to handle all downlines in the future. As an upline, it is also your responsibility to turn your downlines into leaders of their own group. Their downlines will depend on them.&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/7154187-110113766834819086?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/110113766834819086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=110113766834819086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110113766834819086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110113766834819086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/11/leadership.html' title='Leadership'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-110070615915725861</id><published>2004-11-17T06:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-17T07:42:39.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whew!</title><content type='html'>Well... I need to breathe. This week is bound to be hectic and overwhelming and to think we're just halfway through. I don't want to live a&lt;em&gt; kalat&lt;/em&gt; life anymore. I need directions and goals. I started to take control once again and stop dilly dallying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Updates:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Monday: I bagged two deals in First Quadrant last and as a result, I'll have my paycheck on friday. Just in time for the midnight sale! Hehehe! Nah... I'm buying Peloy Books of Magic. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) Tuesday: I bagged another deal in First Quadrant. I managed to bag the deal with Tater's popcorn store owner Ellen De Castro. I was very happy! And she's very down to earth. We even took the jeep to and fro. And now, I'm still waiting to bag the deal with Snooky Serna. I spoke with my head uplines and we all agreed to guarantee that she could be the next cover for the catalog if she signs up! Yey!!! I had to rush back to Ayala because Peloy was waiting for me there. We had dinner in Piadina Italiana and we had ice cream. yum! ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) Wednesday: Ac'cent will be selling the accessories I make in their store! Thats another racket! Hehehe! I'm pretty excited but I'm not sure if I should do it. I can barely balance both work in FQPI as a Business Associate and schoolwork. Oh well... I better be objective. Despite the fact that this is yet another opportunity, this could derail my plans and I can't keep too many balls in the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) I have to finish my schoolwork and go to school this Friday. I have to iron out the kinks with my other teachers who are now refusing to give me my assignments. Oh God... I'm starting to get nervous again. Well... I have to talk to them nicely and If I must beg, so be it. I need these assignments and I need them to be done on time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) In all honesty, Peloy is my inspiration. Because of him, I'm doing all these work and I'm not even getting tired. Because of him, I endure the stress. Because of him, I keep on going. Just the thought of him smiling energizes me and I love him so much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more time, I'll finish this later.&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/7154187-110070615915725861?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/110070615915725861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=110070615915725861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110070615915725861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110070615915725861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/11/whew.html' title='Whew!'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-110008615923728872</id><published>2004-11-10T03:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-10T03:29:19.236-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A woman came up to me and asked me if I wanted to be a model. All I could remember was how she looked like. She was probably like 5'4, she's already in her 30s, she was fairly beautiful. Her skin looks pale and cool to the touch. She had a look of a woman who was using the most precise beauty regimen to maintain a beauty that was almost beginning to fade. I'll continue this later. I have to go to FQ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-110008615923728872?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/110008615923728872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=110008615923728872' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110008615923728872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/110008615923728872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/11/woman-came-up-to-me-and-asked-me-if-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109975781304125145</id><published>2004-11-06T07:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-06T08:16:53.043-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Love The Fashion Lover</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Did you know her?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At school, she was probably the girl with the latest denim brands: Armani, CK, or Marithe et Francois Girbaud. Denim brands by the way aren't just "jeans" anymore, but the accessories and accompaniments that come along with them. And so even if her hips swayed while swathed in Benetton, you could be sure that the top was at least a Naf Naf or Esprit. Being a typical young, tasteful Filipina, she was also a budding Imeldific, her shoe closet ws probably frighteningly immense. Although she was still in college, she ws also showly acquiring the sensitivities and retail appetites of a fashion maven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you know her now?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At work, although you may earn close to the same salary, she always manages to pull off a number, fashion-wise, that is. She's always there, doggedly panting on the glass doors before the shops open, their panes fogging over her breathing, right over the deadly word "sale". Slowly, you realize that her love of style isn't just a mere obsession or a heady hobby, it is also a skill. Fashion isn't just a blind pursuit for her, it's what gives her life meaning, validity, and in terms of her career, advancement. Because you realize, a girl like that doesn't just put it together well, more importantly, she keeps it together. She's focused, concentrated, successful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do others know her?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy you bet. More than recognize a winner, they reward her. It takes a lot of hard creative work to earn the kind of money you need to keep you in constant Escada, Ralph Lauren and Jewelmer. They will notice her first (this is a fact of life) as she suavely approaches to shake hands, hands that belong to CEO's and other movers and shakers that inhabit the corridors of high taste as well as power. At this point, the classmate that you had in college has truly stopped being a student of style, and became a master and a wielder of it. The denim brands may be less now; Armani, CK may still be there, albeit in their Black-Label form: Giorgio Armani and Calvin Klein.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you hear her?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A truly stylish person is never outwardly boastful or mayabang, such as one who may have the money, but is a boor and a pretender nonetheless. No, true style comes with understatement. You'll hear that message hammered on and on into your ears as you advance up the corporate and social ladder: Those with class never have to flaunt anything. Although she may make mild references to a colorful travel career, ("this espresso is&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;so&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;Roma") she pulls it off somehow whereas others would sound sooo nouveau.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you her?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are, then you are the ultimate male fantasy. Sure some of my friends will ogle over a scantily clad Paris Hilton or Halle Berry, but I tell you, that for every thonged and thronged starlet there are at least seven stylish beauties walking down Ayala Avenue, hidden and far from the cameras. I've worked out this rough ratio, by the way, over years of walking down that avenue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If you are her,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you are most men's true dream. Some people see you as a slave to fashion and perhaps in the most elegant and graceful sense you are. But you are also their master (or mistress if you're stylishly kinky) the doyenne of chic, lover of arts and beauty, educated, sensual, and exciting. You are the embodiment of sophistication and class, the beloved although sometimes maligned fashionista.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-109975781304125145?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109975781304125145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109975781304125145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109975781304125145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109975781304125145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/11/why-i-love-fashion-lover.html' title='Why I Love The Fashion Lover'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109910825533982327</id><published>2004-10-29T20:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-29T20:50:55.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>12 Better Explanations of Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" unselectable="on" width="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;"We all want to fall in love. Why? Because the experience makes us feel completely alive. Where every sense is heightened, every emotion is magnified, our everyday reality is shattered and we are flying into the heavens. It may only last a moment, an hour, an afternoon. But that doesn't diminish its value. Because we are left with memories that we treasure for the rest of our lives."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Don't turn your back on love when its already infront of you. Don't drive it away from you. Because if you do, someday, you'll think again, why let love fly when it was there next to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) In love, think things over first before if you're sure about how you feel. Don't fall too hard not knowing where you will stand, because it will hurt real bad if things don't go the way you want them to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) Its an irony to know that it takes hours some someone to have the guts to say "Hi" to the one he likes, days to admire, weeks to miss the person, months to love, but just a blink of an eye to say goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) Go for the person who loves you. It is not wrong to love someone who belongs to someone else, but it is much better to love someone who could also love you in return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) Love isn't something we hold, it is something we set free, it's not just something we do, but it is something we don't imagine to be. Lastly, it's not something we choose, it chooses us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) The scariest thing about falling in love is getting hurt. The scariest thing about getting hurt is not being able to love again. The scariest thing about not loving again is being alone forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.) When you follow your heart, worry not where it will lead you, for your heart knows the way. And if you do get lost or reach a dead end, use your head to lead you back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.) When you truly care about someone, you don't look for faults, you don't look for answers, you don't look for mistakes. Instead, you fight for the mistakes, you accept the faults, and you overlook excuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.) It's better to lose your pride over the one you love, rather than lose your loved one over your useless pride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.) Love is not "it's your fault", but "I'm sorry", not "where are you", but "I'm here", not "how could you", but "I understand", not "wish you were here", but "I'm thankful you are".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.) The beginning of love is to let those we love be just themselves, and not twist with our own image. Otherwise, we love only the reflections of ourselves we find in them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12.) If a relationship is truly meant for you, your love will find a way to make it happen, and God will be there to make sure it will stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have made a lot of mistakes. Oh believe me I've made a lot of it. I will make it up to him. There will always be ways to make it up to him. All I have to do is open my eyes. 0_0&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-109910825533982327?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109910825533982327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109910825533982327' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109910825533982327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109910825533982327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/10/12-better-explanations-of-love.html' title='12 Better Explanations of Love'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109907974807430764</id><published>2004-10-29T13:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-29T13:02:03.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If I aint got you.</title><content type='html'>I've been hearing this song from Alicia Keys. This song is guaranteed to make anyone feel like a million bucks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alicia Keys&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;If I aint got you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some people live for the fortune&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some people live just for the fame&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some people live for the power yeah&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some people live just to play the game&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some people think that the physical things&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Define whats within and I've been &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There before but that life's a bore&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So full of the superficial&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And some people want it all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I don't want nothing at all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If it ain't you baby&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If I ain't got you baby&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some people want diamond rings&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some just want everything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But everything means nothing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If I ain't got you yeah&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some people search for a fountain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Promises forever young&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some people need three dozen roses&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And thats the only way to prove you love them&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hand me the world on a silver platter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And what good would it be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No one to share &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No one who truely cares for me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And some people want it all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I dont want nothing at all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If it ain't you baby&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If I ain't got you baby&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some people want diamond rings&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some just want everything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But everything means nothing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If I ain't got you you you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And some people want it all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I don't want nothing at all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If it ain't you baby&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If I ain't got you baby&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some people want diamond rings&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some just want everything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But everything means nothing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If I ain't got you yeah&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If I ain't got you with me baby oh ooh said&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nothin in this whole wide world don't mean a thing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If I ain't got you with me baby&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-109907974807430764?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109907974807430764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109907974807430764' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109907974807430764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109907974807430764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/10/if-i-aint-got-you.html' title='If I aint got you.'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109869049900410555</id><published>2004-10-25T01:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-25T00:58:11.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No title to think of.</title><content type='html'>Mood: Unsure. Somewhere between calm and angry inside.&lt;br /&gt;Listening to: Black eyed peas' Shut Up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After realizing how hard the UPCAT exam will be, I had no energy left to even do my paperwork last night. Well, I have to brush up on a lot of things and remember past lessons. Jeez! Anyways, I don't have the time to chill out now. I'm just blogging as usual but after this, am gonna work on my paperwork so that can be cleared out of my way. I'm nervous and scared but fear is fueling me to all the more work on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is the last day for Taters survey. I have eight survey sheets left and I'll be done. After this, I'll work on my filipino paperwork the whole night so that buys me enough time to accompany Peloy tomorrow. But I don't think thats gonna happen. Well, knowing that he's in an interview right now, chances are, by tonight he snagged the job already. We wouldn't need to go elsewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tons of assignments are waiting for me at home. To be able to finish them, I won't be spending time in starbucks, I wouldn't be watching a lot of DVDs, I'll spend less time on the phone. I'll sacrifice what I can do except dates with peloy. I now think of dates as something I can indulge in after a long day in school doing my exams. Its my reward. *evil grin*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm reading my good friend tim's blog. Hehehe! Actually enjoying it! Hehehe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-109869049900410555?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109869049900410555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109869049900410555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109869049900410555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109869049900410555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/10/no-title-to-think-of.html' title='No title to think of.'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109825408800041050</id><published>2004-10-19T22:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-19T23:34:48.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant</title><content type='html'>Twisting and turning in bed, I wasn't able to sleep well. I was awaken by the voices of kids playing outside my house. I felt my stomach rumbling. Boy, am I hungry. Hungry but I couldn't eat. Felt like if I eat, am gonna throw up. Headache is starting. Wanted to drink something but felt like my body would be protesting against everything I'd take in. Exasperated, I decided to take a walk. I didn't even know why I did that. My hands were shaking and cold, my stomach still rumbling, headache's intensifying. Not knowing what to do, I went back to bed. Tried to sleep my hunger and headache away, but I couldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Arrrgghhh!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to go online. Checked my blog, checked my e-mail, visited my chatroom. Just surfing till the time I paid for ends. Shit! I still have to meet Anton Serna! Snooky Serna's brother. We set an appointment with Elena De Castro, the Taters owner. Note to self: Buy the goddamn post-its. As soon as they talk, am going home. There's basically nothing for me to do today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arrrggghhh! This is bound to be a bad day. Not because of forgotten appointments but I'm just not well. Ugh. Anyways, am ranting already. Its amazing! I just noticed it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-109825408800041050?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109825408800041050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109825408800041050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109825408800041050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109825408800041050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/10/rant.html' title='Rant'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109810370059612231</id><published>2004-10-18T05:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-18T05:48:20.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just when you thought</title><content type='html'>As you opened your eyes this morning, erm... I mean afternoon, you realized that it was already 1:30 pm. you were supposed to be in school to pass three paperwork and Ceramics project. Instead of violently panicking, you smiled. You were comforted by the fact that you can always go tomorrow. You were still lying in bed, enjoying the feeling of silk rubbing against your skin. You closed your eyes and you smile, thinking of your boyfriend, your newly fixed phone, your newly fixed TV, you were just really smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Smiling your way out of anger&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You jump in the shower, fixed your clothes and headed out the door with your aunt. You're on your way to pick up your TV. As you reach the Sony Service Center, your TV was there waiting for you. You were excited. You missed it. You quickly read the terms and agreement and signed it. You hailed a cab and asked the personnel to carry the TV. As you reach home, you plug it in to test it, it worked. Then after a minute, the screen slowly starts to fade, them bam! The picture was gone, once again. You were infuriated but for some strange reason, you were laughing. You called the call center of Sony Service Center but couldn't get through. After 15 excruciating minutes, you decided to go back to the service center and demand another repair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the doors of the service center opened, you took a deep breath and entered. You were calmly speaking to the personnel and they were apologetic enough not to tick you off. As you spoke to the manager, the manager gave you his direct contact number and guaranteed to deliver your TV to your home instead. You smiled politely and said thank you. And you left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Missing this childhood memory.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could still remember when you were 10 years old, you and your mom were looking at cars in Pasong Tamo Extension. From brands like Toyota, Nissan, Chevrolet, BMW and other cars you could no longer remember. You've always wanted to relive the memory and walk around the car stores and pick the one you want. Not that you were gonna buy one but, you just wanted to know how much they're worth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've been eyeing this Nissan sports car for the longest time, but never found the time to even go and ask how much it is. As if you can even afford a sports car. But still, the Nissan store is barely 20 steps away from you. Whats there to lose? You immediately walked in and asked, and much to your astonishment, it was 3.3 million pesos. Then you saw another car you want, the Nissan X-Trail, something you've always wanted. You asked how much the car costs, and its barely 1.1 million. You just smiled. You wanted to buy it, but you know you just couldn't buy it right now. But there's this weird satisfaction about knowing that its not as expensive as you thought it was. You recently joined a business you believed in, you know that you'll be able to afford it eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Still very happy.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've been going wherever you wanted to go for today. You could see your folks house from the FX you were riding. And without second thoughts, you asked him to pull over and you decided to visit your folks. As usual, you quickly went up to kiss your mom and say hello to your sisters. You go to other condo units to visit your other folks like your titos and titas and cousins. You stayed for a while, lying in your cousin's bed. Talking and laughing till it was 7:00 and it was time for you to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You hailed a cab to go to the mall to meet your other mom. She smiled as she saw you and she asked if you were hungry. You quickly and cheerily said yes! She got you green tea frap and chicken pesto bread. You were just generally happy the whole day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a world where everyone's rushing to get things done. You were still. You were carefree. You were happy. Its not really going to happen every day but hey, it has been a very good 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/7154187-109810370059612231?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109810370059612231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109810370059612231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109810370059612231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109810370059612231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/10/just-when-you-thought.html' title='Just when you thought'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109800094213196896</id><published>2004-10-17T01:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-17T06:46:07.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random spanish conversations</title><content type='html'>Matt: Hola Monille!&lt;br /&gt;Monille: Hola Matt!&lt;br /&gt;Matt: Donde esta Migz?&lt;br /&gt;Monille: He's Here.&lt;br /&gt;Matt: Quieres acostarte con el?&lt;br /&gt;Monille: Si!!!&lt;br /&gt;Matt: Hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;Monille: Donde esta Peloy?&lt;br /&gt;Matt: El casa.&lt;br /&gt;Monille: Ah. El amor de tu vida.&lt;br /&gt;Matt: Hayyy... El amor de mi vida, si.&lt;br /&gt;Monille: Donde esta?&lt;br /&gt;Matt: Mi casa. Bored to death.&lt;br /&gt;Monille: lol! Idiota! Go to the mall, tonta!&lt;br /&gt;Matt: Hija de!&lt;br /&gt;Monille: ahahaha!&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/7154187-109800094213196896?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109800094213196896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109800094213196896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109800094213196896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109800094213196896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/10/random-spanish-conversations.html' title='Random spanish conversations'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109747397317636266</id><published>2004-10-10T22:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-10T22:52:53.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wishing for the week to end soon</title><content type='html'>This week is bound to be chaotic. I'm trying to calm myself down and boost myself up in an attempt not to chicken out and start slacking off again. *Focus Matt, Focus!!!* I'm sure some people's load in school is a lot heavier than mine, but mine is enough to scare the shit outta me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must be done before the week ends. *cue jaws musical score*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Chemistry 1st grading paperwork and exams.&lt;br /&gt;2.) Values Education 1st grading paperwork and exams.&lt;br /&gt;3.) Physical education 3rd year 1st grading exams.&lt;br /&gt;4.) Physical education's compilation of gymnastic equipments.&lt;br /&gt;5.) Ceramics 2nd grading exams and candle making project.&lt;br /&gt;6.) Social Studies 2nd grading exams cuz paperwork is finished.&lt;br /&gt;7.) Give the survey sheets report to Ms. De Castro of Taters.&lt;br /&gt;8.) Filipino 1st grading paperwork and exams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*exhales*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the bright side, Jake's lending me his acoustic guitar this week! Yey!!! In my spare time, I could learn it. Today, I'll be finishing the Values paperwork so I can work on my Filipino tonight. Yeah I promised Peloy that I'll sleep early but, I'm just really swamped. Anyways, I'm really enjoying Sandman. Thats officially my first book. My first comic book. I enjoyed the story of Desire and the artwork of Milo Manara. I also enjoyed The story of Dream and the artwork of Miguelanxo Prado who happens to be one of Peloy's favourite artists. I'm already reading parts of despair but find the artwork weird. Its a collage of various drawings, paintings and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm wishing for the week to end real soon and just be with Peloy on the weekends. He's always the best part of my day. Either we're talking on the phone or we're meeting up, hearing his voice is enough to stop me from being derailed. He keeps me sane. He keeps me going. He always gives me the Drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm gonna work on my papers and finish the survey sheets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*tilts head and smiles*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/7154187-109747397317636266?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109747397317636266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109747397317636266' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109747397317636266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109747397317636266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/10/wishing-for-week-to-end-soon.html' title='Wishing for the week to end soon'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109739985219097360</id><published>2004-10-10T02:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-10T23:00:10.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Deserve It</title><content type='html'>I have this thing for acoustic guitars. I wanna learn how to play it. But whenever I get the chance to buy one, I always tend to pass up the opportunity. There's this song that I've always wanted to sing this song while playing the acoustic guitar. Its one of my favorite songs and I listen to it all the time when I'm feelin sentimental. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;I Deserve It&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Written by Madonna and Mirwais Ahmadzai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This guy was meant for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And I was meant for him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This guy was dreamt for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And I was dreamt for him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This guy has danced for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And I have danced for him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This guy has cried for me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And I have cried for him &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Many miles, many roads I have traveled &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Fallen down on the way &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Many hearts, many years have unraveled&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Leading up to today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This guy has prayed for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And I have prayed for him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This guy was made for me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And I was made for him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Many miles, many roads I have traveled&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Fallen down on the way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Many hearts, many years have unraveled&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Leading up to today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I have no regrets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;There's nothing to forget &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;All the pain was worth it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Not running from the past&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I tried to do what's best&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I know that I deserve it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Many miles, many roads I have traveled&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Fallen down on the way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Many hearts, many years have unraveled&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Leading up to today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And I thank you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-109739985219097360?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109739985219097360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109739985219097360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109739985219097360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109739985219097360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/10/i-deserve-it.html' title='I Deserve It'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109722145470399203</id><published>2004-10-08T01:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-08T00:44:14.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Exasperation from ugly teachers</title><content type='html'>Wasn't able to accomplish much. Finished all my paperwork but most of em refused to accept it cuz they're distributing quarterly report cards. It was pretty annoying cuz I have my 2nd grading assignments which my teachers refused to accept cuz I haven't completed the entire first grading yet. Still have to comply with all the subjects in first grading before progressing to second. The thing is, some assignments from 2nd grading have been made already. *sighs* *screams then starts to fire at random targets*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But on the bright side, I passed my first grading paperwork in Ceramics. Took my exams and it was perfect! As in no mistakes at all! Cool!!!! That exam was enough to stop me from getting derailed! I mean, may not have accomplished much but I don't feel like I just wasted my day. I don't feel like a bum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I'm blogging while waiting for the hours to pass cuz I'm meeting Peloy in Mc Donalds. Yeah am tired, drained and a bit bangag but he never fails to perk me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Continues to read sandman*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-109722145470399203?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109722145470399203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109722145470399203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109722145470399203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109722145470399203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/10/exasperation-from-ugly-teachers.html' title='Exasperation from ugly teachers'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109713432851460812</id><published>2004-10-07T01:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-07T00:33:22.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Swamped.</title><content type='html'>Well, I'm gonna have to drag my ass to school again tomorrow to pass my other paperwork. I'm currently researching about gymnastic equipments and their uses and I'll be passing them tomorrow. At the rate I'm going, I'm gonna have to stay up all night to finish all these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Things to be done:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1.) Filipino 1st grading paperwork and exams&lt;br /&gt;2.) Values Education 1st grading paperwork and exams&lt;br /&gt;3.) Ceramics 1st grading paperwork and exams&lt;br /&gt;4.)Social Studies 2nd grading paperwork and exams&lt;br /&gt;5.)Physical Educations project. A compilation of gymnastic equipments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;In between breaks, i'm reading Neil Gaiman's Sandman, Endless Nights. The book that Peloy gave me for our monthsary. Before, I couldn't bring myself to touch it cuz I find it so precious and i'm afraid that I might ruin it. But just like what Peloy said, Books are there to tell you stories. All you have to is open them and read. And thats just what I did. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, i'm going to admit, I'm not really into books until I met Peloy. It initially started as an attempt to immerse myself into his world. Or at least fragments of his world. After reading my first 3 books, which is the Sleeping Beauty trilogy by Anne Rice, I started to enjoy reading. I also read Twisted V by local author Jessica Zafra. Then read Coraline by Neil Gaiman. I am enjoying the books and I ended up borrowing more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I borrowed another batch of books from Peloy. His books of magic and Frank Herbert's Dune. I could imagine his consternation when he heard me say &lt;em&gt;I wanna read Dune. &lt;/em&gt;Well, it isn't a light read I know and He said that its as thick as a bible. Must confess what I was a bit fazed when I saw the actual book, but I can handle it. Its pretty challenging to a book neophyte like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, still gotta finish my research on gymnastic equipments. Gotta pass them tomorrow so I can do other paperworks. Must finish all paperwork before school year ends and I'm going back to a regular school. Being home-schooled for too long tends to get boring eventually. And after almost 3 years of being home-schooled, I'm starting to miss regular school. The teachers, the lessons, the pesky and annoying classmates, and the competition that occurs day after day in classrooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta go guys. Might update later. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-109713432851460812?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109713432851460812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109713432851460812' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109713432851460812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109713432851460812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/10/swamped.html' title='Swamped.'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109662566637600029</id><published>2004-10-01T02:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-01T03:14:26.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A fucking great day!</title><content type='html'>After a gruelling day in school, my teachers said that my grades are high and they've reached 85% and up! Thats not for all subjects yet but hey, at least things are going well for me. I have yet to finish more paperwork and give it my best to maintain the 85% up grades. I'm just so happy cuz I almost didn't make it to school and had to endure long and arduous commuting, the mid-morning sun, the people cause it was rush hour, but I managed to go to school. But it wasn't as easy as I expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps an explanation is in order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I arrived in school with my Tita Baby. She accompanied me cuz she knows I haven't slept for more than a day just to finish my paperwork. Awww she's so sweet. Anyways, as we reached my school, it was already lunch break. That bought me enough time to actually review for my exams. But the break took longer than we all expected. Teachers were supposed to go back to work at 1pm, but it was already almost 2 pm and they're still not back. My tita was afraid that they might not come back and she just asked me to come back on monday. I asked her to wait more. Must admit that I was afraid. Almost shaking actually. I was desperately trying to perk myself up and envisioning this day to be a success. At almost 2 pm, they arrived. *whew* Good thing I waited otherwise my day would have gone to waste. I took my exams and aced it cuz I reviewed properly. And thanks to Peloy, my other assignment has been finished and I'll be taking the exams on monday for that subject and more. I asked my teachers about my grades, and they all said that my grades are 85%up. Although, I still have to do a whole lot more because there are more subjects. I wasn't really fazed cuz the idea that my grades are good is enough for me to feel better and energize me to do more. After exams, I accompanied my tita baby to do her job but I was almost crashing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we took the tricycle, I seized the opportunity to catch some zzzs. After almost 20 mins of sleeping inside the trike, we arrived at our destination and opted not to do her job anymore. We ate our late lunch at mcdonads and i ended up sleeping there for an hour! Hahahaha! We opted to head back to g4 after I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, am in g4, writing my 2nd journal entry. I'll be sleeping in a little while now. I'm so exhausted. But its been a fucking great day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-109662566637600029?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109662566637600029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109662566637600029' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109662566637600029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109662566637600029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/10/fucking-great-day_01.html' title='A fucking great day!'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109524760367797626</id><published>2004-09-15T03:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-20T06:41:03.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alone</title><content type='html'>*Stares Blankly at the screen*&lt;br /&gt;*Feeling the blahs*&lt;br /&gt;*Exhales cigarette smoke*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever get that feeling that you're alone? Despite the number of people that are around you, you feel alone? You feel the hostility of silence? You feel alienated in a place you call home? *Sighs* I actually have no idea what's wrong with me. Right now, despite the tasks I have to do, despite the fact that I'm gonna watch exorcist later, despite the fact that my friends are here, I feel like I'm screaming but no one can hear me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always been a mallrat since God knows when. And I've always been prowling the mall alone. I may know a lot of people but they are not really people I sit down and drink coffee with. They are just some of the employees of the countless stores here in Ayala. I once thought that it would suffice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year, I opened my doors to the possibility of a real friendship with co-mallrats. There has been a lot of them. There were friends and acquaintances. There have been relationships, flings and exes. There have been fights and kiss and make ups. In a span of one year, I opted to remain friends only with the people I trust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And right now, for the first time in a very long time, I feel alone. The friends I'm looking for are not here. All the people I was expecting to see are not here. Suddenly, the mall felt like another planet. I feel like I'm naked infront of a judgmental, conservative crowd. I actually wanna go home and just watch dvds but I still am waiting for some people to arrive so I can go home. There actually is no use to stay for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as I reach home, I just want to wash the mall off my face and have a fresh start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-109524760367797626?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109524760367797626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109524760367797626' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109524760367797626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109524760367797626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/09/alone.html' title='Alone'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109492711296440723</id><published>2004-09-11T11:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-11T11:25:12.963-07:00</updated><title type='text'>INVASION!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Warning!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Your Account has been Invaded by...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img height="450" width="425" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v45/phoelixrising/birthdaydogs.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;YOUR BIRTHDAY BOY LUVAH!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff9966;"&gt;*mwah!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff9966;"&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/7154187-109492711296440723?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109492711296440723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109492711296440723' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109492711296440723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109492711296440723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/09/invasion.html' title='INVASION!!!'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109436430521318618</id><published>2004-09-04T22:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-04T23:05:05.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fathers, or the lack of them actually.</title><content type='html'>Lately, I got to thinking about fathers and their obsession with machismo and masculinity. Why is it that men, particularly fathers have this difficulty in expressing love towards their children? Particularly their sons. They project this &lt;em&gt;I am a dad and I am macho and I can't express love&lt;/em&gt; kind of attitude, and as a result, their children are not really close to them which sometimes lead to resentment and in some cases, &lt;strong&gt;Hate&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was raised by my aunt named Loida. A once married woman until her husband quit us when I was roughly four years old. My mother Catherine, is Loida's sister-in-law. My mother Catherine made my aunt Loida take care of me because she was particularly fond of me and she doesn't have children. Although she was trying. In the meantime, I was there for her to enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really have fond memories of my father or Loida's then husband for that matter. My father died when I was 7 and I never saw much of him. Although my mom said we're very much alike. He succumbed to heart attack more than 10 years ago. Loida's husband on the other hand, I don't have that much memories of him being my dad unless I was being scolded and spanked by him for being &lt;em&gt;spoiled&lt;/em&gt;. After he quit Loida and I, and my father died, I thought, maybe I am not meant to have a father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many fathers' arms are aching to give love and embrace their sons but cannot do so in fear of looking weak or unmacho? *shakes head* I was raised without a dad and I have no idea what a father's role really is. I don't even know if not having a father helped me to become tougher or it made me cynical about fathers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I was not raised with a father, I have no fond memories with my dad or Loida's then husband for that matter playing basketball or drinking beer in our veranda while talking about women. Rather, my childhood memories are filled with the joys of shopping with my mom, spending time with her, ordering take-out pizzas and eating em at home while watching cartoons. And because  I don't have any dad, at a young age, I have assumed the responsibility of being my mother's protector and defender despite our usual clashing points of view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now at the age of 17, I am somewhere between thankful that I don't have a dad and wondering how my easier or harder my life would be if I have one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-109436430521318618?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109436430521318618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109436430521318618' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109436430521318618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109436430521318618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/09/fathers-or-lack-of-them-actually.html' title='Fathers, or the lack of them actually.'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109411916360489952</id><published>2004-09-02T02:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T03:08:51.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tranquility and security in the arms of a great partner.</title><content type='html'>Getting the jitters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was awaken by the tap of his mom's hands and tells him that he is not going to school today because its raining hard and he's been studying very hard and he deserves to rest. His humongous efforts paid off after she tells him that she's leaving him money for his date. News travels to his brain and sends him a jolt of surprise and happiness that kept him awake. He starts to get the jitters after the thought of what he's going to do. He's nervous. His palms are starting to get sweaty and his heartbeat racing. He calms himself down by saying, I love him and i'm going to show it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting Creative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not forgetting the big mistake he made last night, he realized that verbal contrition may not be enough. To make up for the wrong things he'd always say, he cooked for him in hopes that contrition can come in corned beef form. *smiles* Something he hasn't done for quite some time. While the dish was simple, he just wanted to cook for him. *smiles again*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting Ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took a long bath and he was getting himself revved up. Picked out something nice to wear because it was raining. Suddenly, he gets the jitters again. *sighs* Its amazing how anxiety can engulf your being and temporarily paralyze you. The anxiety of being good. He suddenly perked himself up by saying, being with him is rewarding enough. So here goes. *Growls*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting There.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He braved the hard rain to get to the nearest bus. He prepared everything he needed to get there on time. After boarding the train, he tried to be in blank state of mind by staring blankly at the train floor. He feels the cold air of the train. His palms sweaty and cold. He tries to calm himself down. He listened to the sound of his boyfriend's voice on his cell. It made him feel a whole lot better. And before he knew it, he was getting off the train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he started walking, the place is filled with the remnants of the morning's rainshowers. He realized that he was almost at his destination. He took a deep breath and started walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a minute, he saw an abandoned puppy. A part of him wanted to adopt the puppy in the hopes of giving it a better life. He stared at the puppy and closed his eyes. He walked away without knowing why. *sighs sadly at the memory*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meeting him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He waits anxiously for him at the resto. He tried to mentally rehearse what he's going to say. He tries to calm himself down once again by listening to the sound of his boyfriend's voice on his cell. After a few minutes, his boyfriend arrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two parter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-109411916360489952?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109411916360489952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109411916360489952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109411916360489952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109411916360489952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/09/tranquility-and-security-in-arms-of.html' title='Tranquility and security in the arms of a great partner.'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109390465140043715</id><published>2004-08-30T15:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-30T15:24:11.400-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Disbelief in marriage</title><content type='html'>    I don't believe in marriage. No I really don't. Let me be clear about that. I think at worst its a hostile political act. A way for small minded men to keep women in the house and out of the way. Wrapped up in guise of tradition and conservative religious nonsense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    At best, its a happy delusion. These two people who truly love each other and have no idea how truly miserable they're about to make each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    But when two people know that, and they decide with eyes wide open to face each other and get married anyway. Then I don't think its conservative or delusional. I think its radical, and courageous and very romantic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tina Modotti&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/7154187-109390465140043715?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109390465140043715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109390465140043715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109390465140043715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109390465140043715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/08/disbelief-in-marriage.html' title='Disbelief in marriage'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109385524379667736</id><published>2004-08-30T01:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-30T01:40:43.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Great Expectations</title><content type='html'>Earlier, I got to thinking about expectations. Why is it that a lot of people live up to other people's expectations? Is it pride? Is it the challenge? Or, are we just afraid to fail?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Sighs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not exempted from this. Lately, I've been stressed because of paperwork that I've been trying to finish during the past month. I am trying to live up to my parents' expectations, my relatives' expectations and even my own expectations. I always hear my relatives saying &lt;em&gt;Sayang ka naman kung di ka magiging Valedictorian &lt;/em&gt;or &lt;em&gt;Sayang naman kung di ka yayaman dahil sa talino mo&lt;/em&gt;. It fuels me to finish my responsibilities and at the same time, live up to their expectations. But the question that nags me now is, is it healthy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to compose my thoughts to write something more coherent because am pretty stressed out. I am trying my best to live up to their expectations. Meanwhile, there's my boyfriend to always give me strength and perk me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Peloy,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For always being there for me in times that I needed you the most. For being my #1 cheerleader, defender and protector. For being mature enough to understand my sometimes irrational immaturity. For always being there to love me despite all my flaws. For always being there to hold my hand in times that I break down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you... so much!&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/7154187-109385524379667736?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109385524379667736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109385524379667736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109385524379667736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109385524379667736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/08/great-expectations.html' title='Great Expectations'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109341177384762833</id><published>2004-08-24T21:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-24T22:43:14.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A new chapter has begun.</title><content type='html'>Months after opening our doors to a new relationship and a life shared together as one, You and I have entered another month and have yet to discover more things about each other. The past months have been very meaningful. The operative word being meaningful encapsulates everything that happened in our relationship. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As another month starts, there's the good times to look forward to. But there will also be trials, obstacles and misunderstanding. But then again, Love is more powerful and any trials, obstacles and misunderstandings. And I believe that Love is something we are overflowing with. And side by side, we will face each and every single one of them. *Growls*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may not always know what to do, but give me time to learn and I will be the best Matt for you. I love you so much and yes, the idea of you and the love we share is more than enough for me to go on and face every day with a smile. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you and once again, Happy Monthsary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-109341177384762833?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109341177384762833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109341177384762833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109341177384762833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109341177384762833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/08/new-chapter-has-begun.html' title='A new chapter has begun.'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109241428652975690</id><published>2004-08-13T09:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-13T09:24:46.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Peloy.</title><content type='html'>    As I looked at your face while my head is resting on your lap, I was telling myself how happy I am to just be with you. Enjoying your company in a quiet resto that can never be offered by the malls of Ayala. Enjoying your company in a place where nobody knows me is very relaxing. We have each other's undivided attention and days like these beats any given day at the mall. We talked, smiled, laughed, held hands and kissed as if it was nobody's business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    You're someone I always look forward to. You're someone I always miss despite the number of times we talk. Despite the time span that we've been together, I still get the butterflies whenever I see you. I still blush and bite my lower lip when you say somethin really sweet. The love and passion that has always been there since day one is growing stronger each day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You.&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/7154187-109241428652975690?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109241428652975690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109241428652975690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109241428652975690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109241428652975690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/08/to-peloy.html' title='To Peloy.'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109229368539887994</id><published>2004-08-11T23:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-11T23:54:45.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You'll Follow Me Down</title><content type='html'>You'll Follow Me Down By Skunk Anansie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Survived tonight&lt;br /&gt;I may be going down&lt;br /&gt;'Cos everything goes round too&lt;br /&gt;Tight, tonight&lt;br /&gt; And as you watch me crawl&lt;br /&gt;You stand for more&lt;br /&gt;And your panic stricken&lt;br /&gt;Blood will thicken up tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cos I don't want you to forgive me&lt;br /&gt;You'll follow me down&lt;br /&gt;You'll follow me down&lt;br /&gt;You'll follow me down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Survive tonight&lt;br /&gt;I see your head's exposed&lt;br /&gt;So we shall kill&lt;br /&gt;Constructive might&lt;br /&gt;It's so right as your emotions fool you&lt;br /&gt;My strong will rule&lt;br /&gt;And your panic stricken&lt;br /&gt;Blood will thicken up tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cos I don't want you to forgive me&lt;br /&gt;You'll follow me down&lt;br /&gt;You'll follow me down&lt;br /&gt;You'll follow me down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't feel restraint&lt;br /&gt;Watching you close sense down&lt;br /&gt;I can't compensate&lt;br /&gt;That's more than I've got to give&lt;br /&gt;And your panic stricken&lt;br /&gt;Blood will thicken up tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cos I don't want you to forgive me&lt;br /&gt;You'll follow me down&lt;br /&gt;You'll follow me down&lt;br /&gt;You'll follow me down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cos I don't want you to forgive me&lt;br /&gt;You'll follow me down&lt;br /&gt;You'll follow me down&lt;br /&gt;You'll follow me down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-109229368539887994?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109229368539887994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109229368539887994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109229368539887994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109229368539887994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/08/youll-follow-me-down.html' title='You&apos;ll Follow Me Down'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109220696867176075</id><published>2004-08-10T23:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T23:49:28.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Understanding and Sacrifices.</title><content type='html'>*Exhales*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Malaguena Salerosa playing on the background*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peloy, as I closed my eyes to sleep last night, I want you to know that you don't have to worry about time. You need it in order to finish your thesis. If you'd keep worrying about us, you'll never finish your thesis on time. This can't always be about us. This is now about you. The "ME" time you deserve. Quit worrying about me and people around you because that will never solve your thesis problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't speak for everybody. I can only speak for myself. First and foremost, I know how important your thesis is to you. So I am giving you the time and please take it without the slightest tinge of guilt. Be comforted by the fact that I understand it and yes, I'm giving it to you. you have my full support and you don't have to worry about anything ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&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/7154187-109220696867176075?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109220696867176075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109220696867176075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109220696867176075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109220696867176075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/08/understanding-and-sacrifices.html' title='Understanding and Sacrifices.'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109220455728580271</id><published>2004-08-10T23:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T23:19:07.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Malaguena Salerosa</title><content type='html'>Before anything else, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DELL!!! ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malaguena Salerosa. OST: Kill Bill Vol 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que bonitos ojos tienes&lt;br /&gt;Debajo de esas dos cejas&lt;br /&gt;Debajo de esas dos cejas&lt;br /&gt;Que bonitos ojos tienes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellos me quieren mirar&lt;br /&gt;Pero si tu no los dejas&lt;br /&gt;Pero si tu no los dejas&lt;br /&gt;Ni siquiera parpadear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malaguena salerosa&lt;br /&gt;Besar tus labios quisiera&lt;br /&gt;Besar tus labios quisiera.&lt;br /&gt;Malaguena salerosa&lt;br /&gt;Y decirte nina hermosa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que eres lin........da y hechicera,&lt;br /&gt;Que eres linda y hechicera&lt;br /&gt;Como el candor de una rosa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si por pobre me desprecias&lt;br /&gt;Yo te concedo razon&lt;br /&gt;Yo te concedo razon&lt;br /&gt;Si por pobre me desprecias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo no te ofrezco riquezas&lt;br /&gt;Te ofrezco mi corazon&lt;br /&gt;Te ofrezco mi corazon&lt;br /&gt;A cambio de mi pobreza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malaguena salerosa&lt;br /&gt;Besar tus labios quisiera&lt;br /&gt;Besar tus labios quisiera.&lt;br /&gt;Malaguena salerosa&lt;br /&gt;Y decirte nina hermosa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que eres lin........da y hechicera,&lt;br /&gt;Que eres linda y hechicera&lt;br /&gt;Como el candor de una rosa.&lt;br /&gt;Y decirte nina hermosa.&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/7154187-109220455728580271?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109220455728580271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109220455728580271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109220455728580271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109220455728580271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/08/malaguena-salerosa.html' title='Malaguena Salerosa'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109214592929440342</id><published>2004-08-10T06:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T06:52:09.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Immortality of Chickens</title><content type='html'>"Disclaimer"&lt;br /&gt;I am currently on acid so please bear with me. This is truly and utterly non-sequitur. All in the name of my dear friend Kendra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I have a dear friend named Kendra who apparently believes in immortality. Immortality: A belief that you can live forever, physically or otherwise. Immortality can be achieved by being an icon, a hero, heck! Even a pornstar! But this particular immortality I am talking about is The Immortality of Chickens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps an explanation is in order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Chickens, like humans have their purpose on earth. However, chickens are food and they are eventually reduced to human poop. But Kendra The Chicken believes in immortality. She wants to be an icon, one way or another. She wants to leave a dent in this world. Maybe as the chicken who worked for an internet cafe. Maybe as the chicken who one-wayed a gorgeous guy because her "chickeness" got the better of her, or maybe she wants to be the first chicken to be a dominatrix in high heels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    She abhors the movie Chicken Run primarily because the movie revolves around chickens running for their lives. This particular chicken who is the precise equivalent of the Virgin Mary professes a moral discomfort with the murders of poor chickens everywhere. She bitches about the fact that dismembered chicken limbs are sold freely in the goddamn supermarket. "Thats just obscene!" She said. She was on the verge of going homicidal and she wanted to snatch the butcher's knife and dismember his penis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, basking in the spotlight is my very dear friend Kendra, who believes in chicken rights and chicken immortality.&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/7154187-109214592929440342?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109214592929440342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109214592929440342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109214592929440342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109214592929440342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/08/immortality-of-chickens.html' title='The Immortality of Chickens'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109204635098224867</id><published>2004-08-09T02:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-09T03:12:30.983-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Conspiracy of Buns</title><content type='html'>    These are uneasy times for heterosexual women. We are bio-engineered to produce offspring and ensure the survival of the human species, but when we survey potential DNA donors, we suspect its time to chlorinate the gene pool. I remember something I heard in an otherwise idiotic movie: Guys are like parking spaces. All the good ones are taken, and the available ones are handicapped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Okay, not all men are dogs. There are a lot of great guys out there; unfortunately they're already taken. Women who take an ethical stand against poaching are at a disadvantage (see what good behavior gets you). Sometimes the most you can hope for is a trainable puppy, one that won't pee all over the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Occasionally you meet an apparently perfect specimen. He's smart, funny, attractive, sensitive, articulate, cultured, dresses well. He even cooks. The first question that pops into your head is not, "is he seeing anyone?" The first question is, "is he gay?" And if the answer to both questions is no, What is wrong with him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    The debate in homosexuality still rages. We're not sure whether the person is born gay or becomes gay, but it seems that there are more gay men today than in previous decades. The explanation could simply be that the population is bigger, so the number of gays is proportionately larger. It could be that since homosexuality is no longer classified as a disease, it is considerably less traumatic to come out of the closet, so it would appear that there are more gays in the present era. In any case, humans are an admirably adaptable group, and women are making adjustments. I see a trend in straight women-gay men relationships. It makes perfect sense. After all, empathy and shared interests are essential to relationships. Who would better understand your need to hand a Keanu Reeves poster in your room?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I have three flagrantly gay friends who are currently embroiled in relationships with women. Perhaps they were closet heterosexuals. Maybe these are tidings of the apocalypse. Much to everyone's consternation, they look happy. Don't knock happiness, it doesn't happen very often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I have two theories on the apparent gay population explosion. One, Nature is addressing the problen of overpopulation on this planet by limiting the number of propagators. As far as I know, gay men cannot give birth, although if the straight women-gay men syndrome persists, this theory goes kaput. Two, the theory of natural selection tells us that individuals which adapt better to their environment tend to survive and perpetuate the species. This leads to genetic changes and eventually, to the origin of new species. Among humans, we look for partners with the qualities that will ensure the continuation of our lineage. With every generation we strive for improvement, and therefore greater survivability. But what happens when the line has fulfilled its potential and produced individuals as charming as their DNA can aspire for? At this point mixing chromosones with other individuals would not lead to further improvement. So the individuals become gay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Yesterday, I heard another theory from my friend Greaser. It is in equal parts conspiracy theory, urban legend, and paranoid ranting. It involves "nutribuns."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   In the 1970s, to promote better nutrition among schoolchildren, the government provided free nutrient enhanced bread called "nutribuns." According to Greaser, these buns did not just contain nutrients. They not only addressed the problem of malnutrition, but also the problem of rapid population growth. How?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    "By making children gay," Greaser said, darkly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    "WHAT?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    "It was an experiment. European scientists used the buns to spread drugs that promote homosexuality," he said. "Homosexuality limits population growth. In the past, only upper-class people could come out of the closet. They could afford to flout convention. These days, people of all economic classes can come out of the closet. Many of these people ate nutribuns."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    "You're a freak," I told him. "I ate nutribuns and I'm not gay."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    "But you have many gay friends," he said. You are beyond fag hag. You are a haggot." He raised an eyebrow. I raised an eyebrow. I had the sudden urge to watch &lt;em&gt;Spartacus.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taken from Twisted V by Jessica Zafra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-109204635098224867?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109204635098224867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109204635098224867' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109204635098224867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109204635098224867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/08/conspiracy-of-buns.html' title='The Conspiracy of Buns'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109197547122112615</id><published>2004-08-08T06:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T07:07:45.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All about TheHyperballad</title><content type='html'>*laughs hysterically*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna copy this thing from G. If you'd excuse me. I just find it so much fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Name] Matthew Stephen David Tan Perez.&lt;br /&gt;[Nickname] Matt.&lt;br /&gt;[Screen name] Hyperballad.&lt;br /&gt;[Age] 17.&lt;br /&gt;[Astrological sign] Pisces.&lt;br /&gt;[Chinese zodiac sign] Rabbit.&lt;br /&gt;[Location] Taguig/Makati.&lt;br /&gt;[Marital Status] Almost Married.&lt;br /&gt;[Eye color] Dark Brown.&lt;br /&gt;[Height] 5'7.&lt;br /&gt;[Shoe size] 9.&lt;br /&gt;[Parents still together] Yup. But its me who's separated from them ^_^.&lt;br /&gt;[Siblings] Three. Two older sisters and a younger sister.&lt;br /&gt;[Nieces/Nephews?] Two. Mischa and Enzo.&lt;br /&gt;[Kids of your own?] Not yet.&lt;br /&gt;[Grandkids?] Worse! Noooooo!&lt;br /&gt;[Pets] A labrador puppy named B.B.&lt;br /&gt;[Education] Junior high at the R.E.S.P.S.C.I homestudy program.&lt;br /&gt;[Rent, lease or own your own home?] We have a condo unit in taguig and own a condo building&lt;br /&gt;in Makati.&lt;br /&gt;[Have any credit cards] No. We believe that's a bad financial move.&lt;br /&gt;[What do you drive?] My aunt and my mom nuts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Favorites&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Color] Black, Navy Blue, Powder blue, Gray and Maroon.&lt;br /&gt;[Numbers] 3, 7.&lt;br /&gt;[Animal] Dogs.&lt;br /&gt;[Vehicle] A Mercedes Benz.&lt;br /&gt;[Flower] White Roses.&lt;br /&gt;[Scent] Adidas Urban Spice, Davidoff Echo, Olivier and James Creed's Silver Mountain Water.&lt;br /&gt;[Shape] Circles.&lt;br /&gt;[Drinks] Iced Tea, Water and Coffee.&lt;br /&gt;[Soda] Sprite and Coke.&lt;br /&gt;[Book] Twisted V by Jessica Zafra. I have yet to discover and read more books.&lt;br /&gt;[band] Evanescence, The Corrs and The Calling.&lt;br /&gt;[Song] The hardest day By The Corrs feat Alejandro Sanz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you...&lt;br /&gt;[Color your hair?] Yes. Twice or thrice for vanity, once for a play and once to shock people. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;[Twirl your hair?] Too short to twirl.&lt;br /&gt;[Have tattoos?] I've been dying to get one but a lot of people are objecting.&lt;br /&gt;[Piercings?] None yet.&lt;br /&gt;[Cheat on tests/homework?] Once in Elementary.&lt;br /&gt;[Drink/Smoke?] I occasionally drink. I'm a smoker.&lt;br /&gt;[Like roller coasters?] No. Not really.&lt;br /&gt;[Wish you could live somewhere else?] Sometimes, like the house next door to my boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;[Want more piercings?] Heck! I don't even have one dammit!&lt;br /&gt;[Like cleaning?] No. Well at least not really.&lt;br /&gt;[Write in cursive or in print?] Both.&lt;br /&gt;[Carry a donor card?] Nope.&lt;br /&gt;[Swear a lot?] What the fuck is this!?&lt;br /&gt;[Own a web cam?] Nah.&lt;br /&gt;[Know how to drive?] Yup.&lt;br /&gt;[Diet?] Used to. Till I learned the mantra, "exercise to eat".&lt;br /&gt;[Own a cell phone?] Yup. A Nokia 8310.&lt;br /&gt;[Ever get off the damn computer?] I have to. I have papers to finish.&lt;br /&gt;[Habla Espanol?] No. But I am half-Spanish. Hehehe!&lt;br /&gt;[Gotten a speeding ticket?] Not yet.&lt;br /&gt;[DUI?] Huh?&lt;br /&gt;[Been in a wreck?] Not really. But I lost balance when I tried to ride a motorcycle once.&lt;br /&gt;[Been arrested] Not that I remember.&lt;br /&gt;[Been in fist fight?] Hell yeah!&lt;br /&gt;[Kicked someone in the nuts] Used my knee back in sixth grade.&lt;br /&gt;[Stolen anything?] Yup&lt;br /&gt;[Ever held a gun?] Five times. My uncle owns a gun.&lt;br /&gt;[ever get drunk] Yes.&lt;br /&gt;[Been so drunk that you cant even remember your name?] Only after a skull splitting orgasm.&lt;br /&gt;[Considered a life of crime?] When I was a kid.&lt;br /&gt;[Considered being a hooker?] Yes actually. If I only had the body for it.&lt;br /&gt;[Been married?] I wish! Oh hell I wish!&lt;br /&gt;[Cried over a girl?] Yup.&lt;br /&gt;[Ever cried over a boy?] Yup.&lt;br /&gt;[Lied to someone] Little white lies to save them from getting hurt.&lt;br /&gt;[Been in love?] Abso-FUCKING-lutely! And still am in LOVE!&lt;br /&gt;[Fallen for your best friend?] Uhm... gross. No. I treat em like sisters.&lt;br /&gt;[Made out with just a friend?] Erm... yeah.&lt;br /&gt;[Been rejected?] Oh yes. More times than I can remember. Cuz I WAS FAT!!!&lt;br /&gt;[Been in lust?] *Smiles naughtily* Yes and still am in lust.&lt;br /&gt;[Used someone?] Not that I remember.&lt;br /&gt;[Ever been used] Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now&lt;br /&gt;[Current mood] Happy.&lt;br /&gt;[Current music] Me Against the Music By Madonna and Britney Spears.&lt;br /&gt;[Current taste] Nah.&lt;br /&gt;[Current hairstyle] Finger combed to one side.&lt;br /&gt;[Current annoyance] Unfinished paperwork.&lt;br /&gt;[Current smell] Davidoff echo.&lt;br /&gt;[Current thing I ought to be doing] Filipino paperwork on Jose Rizal.&lt;br /&gt;[Current windows open] My blog, My boyfriend's blog, Friendster and mIRC.&lt;br /&gt;[Current desktop picture] None.&lt;br /&gt;[Current book] Coraline by Neil Gaiman.&lt;br /&gt;[Current cds in stereo] The mp3 compilation that my boyfriend gave me.&lt;br /&gt;[Current Crush] My boyfriend Peloy.&lt;br /&gt;[Current favorite celeb] Uma Thurman.&lt;br /&gt;[Current hate.] Gladys Guevarra and her song &lt;em&gt;Sasakyan.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Current Job.] Model/student.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The last time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Last book you read] Twisted V By Jessica Zafra.&lt;br /&gt;[Last movie you saw] Garfield.&lt;br /&gt;[Last thing you had to drink] Sprite.&lt;br /&gt;[Last thing you ate] shark's fin served in hainanese rice.&lt;br /&gt;[Last person you talked to on the phone] Peloy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Do drugs?] Nope.&lt;br /&gt;[Have a dream that keeps coming back?] Erm... yes.&lt;br /&gt;[Play an instrument?] Wishing to play the guitar.&lt;br /&gt;[Believe there is life on other planets?] Neither confirm nor deny.&lt;br /&gt;[Remember your first love?] Yes. My first true love.&lt;br /&gt;[Still love him/her?] Of course. I am with him. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;[Read the newspapers?] Nope.&lt;br /&gt;[Have any gay/lesbian friends?] Truckloads of em.&lt;br /&gt;[Believe in miracles?] Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;[Believe its possible to remain faithful forever?] Yes. I do.&lt;br /&gt;[Consider yourself tolerant of others?] Sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;[Consider love a mistake?] Nope. Falling for the wrong men are. But your one true love will always be worth it.&lt;br /&gt;[Have a favorite candy?] Nopes. But I like Kitkat chunky white.&lt;br /&gt;[Believe in astrology?] No.&lt;br /&gt;[Believe in magic?] Not yet.&lt;br /&gt;[Believe in God?] Yes.&lt;br /&gt;[Do well in school?] I do now!&lt;br /&gt;[Go to or plan to go to college?] Absolutely. UP Diliman.&lt;br /&gt;[Wear caps?] Yup.&lt;br /&gt;[Hate yourself?] Sometimes I do.&lt;br /&gt;[Have an obsession?] My boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;[Have a secret crush?] Nopes.&lt;br /&gt;[Do they no yet?] Nopes.&lt;br /&gt;[Collect anything?] Magazines and accessories.&lt;br /&gt;[Have a best friend?] Yup. Jake, Athan, Ivan and my boyfriend Peloy.&lt;br /&gt;[Close friends?] Larcie, Joan and Ate Janie.&lt;br /&gt;[Like your handwriting?] Not really.&lt;br /&gt;[Care about looks] Fashionably sensitive but too cool to care. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love life&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[First girl crush] Sharon Grace Meneses of Kenny Rogers' Park Square 1.&lt;br /&gt;[First guy crush] Jonathan Brandis of Sidekick.&lt;br /&gt;[Single or attached?] Attached and damn proud of it!&lt;br /&gt;[Ever been in love?] Absolutely.&lt;br /&gt;[Ever believe in love at first sight?] Lust at first sight, yes.&lt;br /&gt;[Ever believe in "The One"]&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;Yes. I am with him.&lt;br /&gt;[Describe your ideal significant other] Smart, tough, respectful, gentle, kind, loving, good kisser, very sexual, responsible, sweet, mysterious, a bit buff and soooooooooo adorable!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Juicy stuff&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Have you ever played a game that required removal of clothing?] *Exhales* Yes.&lt;br /&gt;[Have you ever been intoxicated?] *Exhales again* Yes.&lt;br /&gt;[Are you a tease?] Sometimes I can be.&lt;br /&gt;[Shy to make the first move?] Sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Are you a...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Wuss] When it comes to eating gross stuff ala Fear Factor.&lt;br /&gt;[Druggy] Nopes.&lt;br /&gt;[Daydreamer] Oh yeah!&lt;br /&gt;[Freak] *Laughs* Yes.&lt;br /&gt;[Dork] *Laughs again* Yes.&lt;br /&gt;[Bitch/Asshole] *Closes eyes for a sec and nods. I can be.&lt;br /&gt;[Brat] To the core.&lt;br /&gt;[Sarcastic] Try me.&lt;br /&gt;[Goody-Goody] *smiles*&lt;br /&gt;[Angel] I can be.&lt;br /&gt;[Devil] I can be.&lt;br /&gt;[Shy] Not really.&lt;br /&gt;[Talkative] Yup.&lt;br /&gt;[Adventurous] Not really.&lt;br /&gt;[Joker] I can be.&lt;br /&gt;[Flirty] Not really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Word association&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Rock] Metallica&lt;br /&gt;[Green] Leaf&lt;br /&gt;[Wet] Rain&lt;br /&gt;[Cry] Pain&lt;br /&gt;[Peanuts] Almonds and Macadamia&lt;br /&gt;[Hay] Horse&lt;br /&gt;[Cold] sleep&lt;br /&gt;[Steamy] Sex with my boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/7154187-109197547122112615?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109197547122112615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109197547122112615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109197547122112615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109197547122112615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/08/all-about-thehyperballad.html' title='All about TheHyperballad'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109177330675363869</id><published>2004-08-05T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-05T23:36:10.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A peaceful morning</title><content type='html'>*stares blankly at the screen*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been a peaceful morning for me. For the first time in a week, I was able to almost sleep properly. Its 1:30 pm. Maybe I should call it Peaceful Afternoon. Anyways, I did my paperwork till 3:30am. I am hell bent into making it to UP Diliman. I am making sure that my assignments and exams will be perfect to get the grades I need to get to UP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really have much to do today. I have a short list of my &lt;em&gt;must be done before the day ends.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Must find a rare DVD for Peloy.&lt;br /&gt;2.) Must find Lucky a nice gift too.&lt;br /&gt;3.) Must find myself new jeans.&lt;br /&gt;4.) Must find a gift for Dell.&lt;br /&gt;5.) Must read The Idiots Guide to Labradors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have yet to finish my filipino assignments. I'm not even halfway done yet. The assignment is pretty long but its not intellectually straining except for some deep Tagalog words that I can't understand. Anyways, BB took a bath earlier! Yey! I can breathe a little easier. That's one responsibility that has been done for today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Stares blankly at the screen again*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon closer inspection, I have officially been a blog addict! Blogging is habit forming. Yet its fun and it improves your vocabulary. Hehehehe! I have yet to learn how to post pics to I can add images to my blog.&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/7154187-109177330675363869?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109177330675363869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109177330675363869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109177330675363869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109177330675363869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/08/peaceful-morning.html' title='A peaceful morning'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109168429548270802</id><published>2004-08-04T22:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-05T08:02:18.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What I Want</title><content type='html'>Recently, I found myself being asked by people about the things I want. I couldn't give them a clear answer. Actually, all I tell them is I don't know. They would even ask me if I want to get married. One can only hope, I replied. Do I want to have kids? My mom would often ask. All I will say is, I don't know. Relatives would often bring up the subject of marriage and babies. They would sum up my life by saying, &lt;em&gt;sayang ka naman kung di ka magkakaanak!&lt;/em&gt; I will just shake my head and smile politely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contrary to popular belief, I one had my dreams and ambitions. I wanted to be a lawyer, or a model or an actor. I wanted to be rich and have it all. But as I turned 17 I realized, its about time that silly ambitions such as these give way to reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, what I want to do academically, is pass all my examinations in the homestudy program and have an 85% and up. I have two years to think of the course I'll be taking up in college. And in those two years, I have to pass all exams and I have to review for the UPCAT exams. I don't want to disappoint myself any further. Suffice to say, I am now DRIVEN. I am no longer ambitious. The term would be driven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it comes to the subject of vanity, what I want to do is improve my body. Go to the gym to shape up and have regular derma treatments to clarify my skin. Grow my hair long and have an extenso treatment from either Propaganda or Piandre salon. An extenso treatment is like hair rebonding, but safer. I wanna have more clothes. If I wouldn't be a model, I'd at least want to look like one and turn heads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my relationship, he is the one for me and I cant imagine life without him. We still have some barriers to break down but we will manage. I will settle down with him and him alone. Not everyone can understand why I am damn sure about this things cuz we've only been together for four months. My answer to them is, only I know when its right. When its right, you just know. And I don't just know, I am damn sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Career talk, I have yet to discover my future career. I guess that would depend on the course that I will be taking. Suffice to say, I don't have that in mind yet. I'm gonna have to make it to UP Diliman first before deciding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family Life. I love my family. We've been encountering problems recently but we've been patching things up. Details must remain undisclosed.&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/7154187-109168429548270802?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109168429548270802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109168429548270802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109168429548270802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109168429548270802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/08/what-i-want.html' title='What I Want'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109160115561840189</id><published>2004-08-03T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-04T21:19:09.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>*Smiling cuz of contentment*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have submitted my first assignment and yes, I did well! I wasn't able to sleep much that night cuz I really had to study and am hell bent to study in UP come 2006. The day wasn't as easy as I imagined it to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Closes eyes for a sec to remember*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up at 7am. I was calling on my mom and asked her for a piece of gonuts donuts. I sorta need sweets in the morning to energize me but she said that there aint anymore donuts. Aaaaaarrrggghhh! So I just took a bath and realized that am fresh out of facial scrub. Oh no! But had no time to buy some cuz I gotta go to school. Had to dress up quickly cuz mom, lolo and my tita were waiting for me. When I was done, we hailed a cab cuz my lolo's having his monthly check up. It was traffic in c5 and I was beginning to lose my patience cuz I might not make it to school and my tita was betting like 500 bucks to prove that I wouldn't make it. *smells impending bomb*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arrived at Shaw Boulevard at 10 am. Exams end at 12. I have two hours left to travel, study and take the exams. While I was in the FX, I was in a psuedo state of panic already. The driver drives like a snail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I reached my stop, I look at my cell to check the time. To my horror, it was already 11am! Waaaaahhh! I'm having this fear that I wouldn't make it. I had to run. As I reached the faculty room, I was praying that my teacher would let me take my exam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had like 15 mins to study. I was hoping not to fail. As I took the exam paper, my heart was pounding. I was scared. I nervously read the questions and to my delight, it aint really that hard. took the exams as fast as I can and left the school with the feeling of weight lifted off my shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was waiting for the FX and I suddenly felt my hunger. My stomach was growling! I had half a mind to take the cab but I wouldn't have any money left if I will. So I opted to wait for an FX. 30 excruciating minutes later, an FX arrived. Lets not forget that the FX only reaches Shangri-La. Had to take the MRT to Ayala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Called up The Grudge to ask her where they are. She said we're having lunch in Jollibee! Yey! I've been hankering for Jollibee's chicken for the past 3 days. As I reached Jollibee Glorietta 4, I faced my tita with a smug smile on my face. I told her that yes, I took the exams and passed it! She was rather speechless. She couldn't say anything. As I asked her for the 500 bet, she said nothing. Sorta saw that coming though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was already 2pm, I had to go to PSbank Arnaiz branch to get my mom's new checkbook. There's no jeep from Glorietta to PSbank Arnaiz, so I had to walk... again. As I reached PSbank, I asked Lisa Or Spencer about my mom's checkbook. They said that they couldn't give me the checkbook without an authorization letter from my mom. I called home and my mom spoke to the bank personnel, but they still need the goddamn authorization letter. So I had no choice but to go my house in Makati to get my mom to make an authorization letter. As the authorization letter was finished, she said something so shocking, it sent shivers down my spine. She invited Peloy to come over on the 17th! I was shocked! I bursted into tears! I was sooooo damn happy! I was at my wit's end and expending the remnants of my energy. But with that statement, I was re energized!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had to run back to PSbank and slap those people with my authorization letter. As I received it, I had to run back home to give it to my mom. As I was making my way home, I was making a list of things I gotta buy before I head to UP Diliman. I gave the checkbook to my mom and kissed her goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I hailed a jeepney to go to glorietta, I received a txt message coming from Peloy and he was pretty disappointed. And the cause was that Motherfucking UP @$$#0LE! I swear! If I can only kill without even the slightest tinge of guilt, I would've done it already (Imagines the cold and sharp blade of the samurai sword swiftly slicing UP @$$#0LE$' neck). So I went to SM makati to buy Massage oil, a chocolate bar and my bowtie *wink wink* and made my way to UP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I boarded the MRT, I noticed a screaming fag in his 40's naughtily smiling at me. I showed him nothing but a sarcastic look at screams (leave me alone &lt;em&gt;punyeta! &lt;/em&gt;I am not at all interested). As the MRT reached the ortigas station, I got pushed my a guy by accident and as a result, I dropped my phone and the housing cracked. Jesus Christ! Fortunately, Tim was txting me and keeping me company as I endure the excruciating trip from MRT Ayala station to Quezon Ave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I reached the Quezon Ave station, I asked for directions as to where I can find the UP Pantranco jeep. Someone was kind enough to take me there. I boarded the jeep and made my way to UP. I stopped at Sunken Garden. As I was walking across Sunken Garden, my shoes we're sinking in the puddle of mud and my slacks we're having mud stains already. Aaarrrggh! And then, I saw Peloy. I waved at him. He waved back. As I made my way up to see him, he was in his new shirt and all i could mentally say was *Yowza*! Hehehehe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I met Peloy, I txted Tim to say that I was already in Sunken Garden. He arrived in less than 3 minutes. Tim and Peloy we're talking about UP stuff. Suddenly, I was lost. Heyyyy! I'm not from UP guys! Well, at least not yet. Hehehe! Suddenly, Peloy mentioned the name of UP @$$#0LE again. It pisses me off! I really have nothing but sheer and utter contempt for that guy. I just wish that UP @$$#0LE will die before I even get to UP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave Peloy the chocolate and gave him a back massage. Later, we were talking about how we fell in love with each other and how much we truly love each other. The comfort and security his presence brings is just overwhelming. Time stops when I am with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that night, we bought Chickenjoy in Jollibee Kamias and I made my way back to Glorietta by taking the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I reached glorietta, I asked my mom if we can go to McDonald's Greenbelt to buy food. I can't buy food anywhere cuz it's already 11pm. So we hailed a cab and ordered through drive thru. I had my buffalo chicken Mcdo. Its pretty good! I had to go home to eat it cuz it's drenched in sauce and eating it in the cab would be messy. I had my dinner at home and went online only to read Peloy's blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to go home cause I want to hear Peloy's voice before we both sleep. He called up to say goodnight and exchanged I love You's *Awwwwww* It still gives me the butterflies. I do love him that much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking forward to more of this as time passes by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you Peloy.&lt;br /&gt;&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/7154187-109160115561840189?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109160115561840189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109160115561840189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109160115561840189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109160115561840189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/08/smiling-cuz-of-contentment-i-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109107066653422886</id><published>2004-07-28T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-29T01:31:46.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baaaaaddd! Baaaaaaad! Baaaaaad songs!</title><content type='html'>I'm going to make a list of&amp;nbsp;songs that must never be heard again! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) My Heart Will Go On by&amp;nbsp;Celine Dion.&amp;nbsp;OST Titanic. Circa 1997. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the most awful song there is! And its awfulness was intensified exponentially due to overplaying. And creative DJ's actually made remixes and added excerpts from the movie itself (Jaaaaccckkk! Rooooossssssee!).&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;This song is actually the equivalent of 2 caesarians and a lobotomy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) Horny. Circa 1999. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sex in music is definitely overrated. There is such a thing as erotic music that actually stimulates lust and is perfect for making out. But this song actually makes my libido shrivel up and die. I mean the song goes like &lt;em&gt;I'm horny! Horny Horny Horny! (&lt;/em&gt;repeat 2000 times). I gotta hand it to her. She's actually got a tiny vocabulary and to make matters worse, I would hear kids particularly in elementary singing the song. The closet moralist in me is actually cringing at the memory of kids singing it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) Hot In Herre by Nelly. Circa 2002. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the subject of sex in music. This is actually one of the songs that made me shake my head in total disgust. Don't get me wrong, I'm not totally a closet moralist. The song is crass and it has no taste. It goes like &lt;em&gt;its getting hot in herre so take off your clothes.&lt;/em&gt; And a line that has something to do with a pole in the basement. I'm shaking my head in complete and utter disgust because Nelly is butt ugly. Damn I would look a thousand times better even after a bar brawl and a lobotomy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) My Way by Frank Sinatra. Circa God knows when. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song has actually killed people. Armed drunken fucks have been shooting people who's been singing the song. It turns drunkards homicidal and turns&amp;nbsp;pets like dogs into&amp;nbsp;mean&amp;nbsp;killing machines!&amp;nbsp;might I add this teeny tiny info. When I was younger, I could remember my Uncle Delfin singing My Way and actually heard dogs barking while he was singing. It got me thinking, were the dogs hungry or were they just simply going homicidal? Maybe its animal cruelty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I'm pretty drained and tired, I'm gonna make this a two parter. Hehehe! This is me trying to humor myself after a painful introspection. &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/7154187-109107066653422886?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109107066653422886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109107066653422886' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109107066653422886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109107066653422886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/07/baaaaaddd-baaaaaaad-baaaaaad-songs.html' title='Baaaaaddd! Baaaaaaad! Baaaaaad songs!'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109106890430252645</id><published>2004-07-28T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-28T20:14:05.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Self-Flagellation: Vol 2</title><content type='html'>*Twisting and turning last night while trying to sleep* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stared at myself in the mirror and had to employ every ounce of self-control to stop me from punching the mirror. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;Woke up at 8:33 am. My diva of a dog named BB has been barking nonstop and my mom woke me up to&amp;nbsp;put her on a leash. Suddenly, I got to thinking about the true meaning of Diva. The word has been devalued of its meaning because of rampant misuse. Its has been synonymous to the other overused word, Bitch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stared at myself in the mirror and looked at myself wondering what I have become, I've been asking myself lots of questions lately. Am I misunderstood or are they the one misunderstood by me. Are we both wrong? Or Am I just wrong but I simply refuse to concede defeat? Or are we both wrong but they don't concede defeat because they're older?&amp;nbsp;*closes eyes for a sec to think* I wouldn't really know where to start. Sometimes, when I look at myself in the mirror, I actually led myself to believe that I'd see someone worthwhile. But now, I was wrong. I see nothing. Nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again I asked myself if I am bad. I can't even come up with an answer. Am I naturally bad? Because there is such a thing as naturally bastardly. Maybe thats me. Maybe I just need some time to find myself once again. How many times does one person actually have to find himself? But one thing's for sure. I am so sick of having to explain and justify my actions and actually getting my point across. &lt;em&gt;Pagod na ko &lt;/em&gt;(I'm tired of doing that). But on view of what just happened recently, maybe its better to just ignore them. But then again, as you shut up an reach the end of your patience, you lash out. But lashing out all the time is actually worse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to thinking about Respect. Is it something that you must command? Or is it something that you actually have to earn? My brain aint functioning properly so I can't come up with an answer to that. Or maybe there's no precise answer to that because they can both be right. Both has it share of pros and cons. *grips&amp;nbsp;hair in utter irritation* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The minute I get the answers to my questions, I'll let you know. &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/7154187-109106890430252645?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109106890430252645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109106890430252645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109106890430252645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109106890430252645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/07/self-flagellation-vol-2.html' title='Self-Flagellation: Vol 2'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-109056450045542036</id><published>2004-07-22T22:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-24T23:49:30.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Self-flagellation: Vol 1</title><content type='html'>*Stares at himself in the mirror* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a long time of being able to stare&amp;nbsp;at the mirror, I found myself not wanting to see the person staring back at me &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My God. I &lt;strong&gt;am&lt;/strong&gt; fucked up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contrary to popular belief, I don't write in my blog to update people about the things going on in my life. I write for myself and I find blogging cathartic. Its like my release. When walls are not available to punch, there comes the blog. ^_^ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I tried to sleep last night, I got to thinking about myself. Why did I let this happen? Why the fuck must it go this far to realize our priorities? Why do we keep procrastinating? What the fuck is wrong with you Matt?!?! Dammit! This is your fault. You know it.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Why do problems arise one after the other? Sometimes, the other problem hasn't been solved, then comes another one. Give us a break please! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allow me to explain&amp;nbsp; further. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a so-so day as usual. Promised myself to do my assignments but my laziness got the better of me and I&amp;nbsp;watched Frida for the nth time. I had to go to Greenbelt 3 to meet Athan and his friend cuz I promised to lend him&amp;nbsp;TheOne's qaf CDs. I went to surplus shop to buy A tan suede zip up jacket but ended up having it reserved so I can have more choices. I made friends with the surplus shop manager, Chona. As I went down to the grocery store to stock up my ref again. I decided to go home. I played with BB and waited for&amp;nbsp;TheOne to call. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I txted&amp;nbsp;TheOne to say&amp;nbsp;hi, my phone rang. It was him. We were talking about each other's day and everything was going great. Then out of nowhere, he told me that his&amp;nbsp;mom asked if I am his boyfriend. I froze. I panicked and suddenly, I felt derailed. Derailed from the tracks of a happy&amp;nbsp;week.&amp;nbsp;But I managed to ask him about his response, He said he simply smiled and left. We also talked about&amp;nbsp;our paperwork. We haven't done that much.&amp;nbsp;And&amp;nbsp;it is my fault for&amp;nbsp;staying on the phone for long. He confessed that&amp;nbsp;he'd rather make me go to UP instead of talking at night&amp;nbsp;cuz nighttime is the time that he &amp;nbsp;studies and&amp;nbsp;nighttime is also that time that I study. And talking on the phone occupies the hours that should be spent studying. I should've known better. I must admit he is right. And what we talked about&amp;nbsp;triggered my resolve to exercise further self control. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you TheOne. We can do this.&amp;nbsp;We'll support each other and hold each other's hand through all this. Let's just learn from what's happening. And I am sorry that&amp;nbsp;it had to go this far for me to realize it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you and I always will. &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/7154187-109056450045542036?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/109056450045542036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=109056450045542036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109056450045542036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/109056450045542036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/07/self-flagellation-vol-1.html' title='Self-flagellation: Vol 1'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-108978723672302783</id><published>2004-07-13T23:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-14T01:16:13.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Secrets of happy couples.</title><content type='html'>Tips I've learned and I want to share them to couples out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANNIVERSARIES and MONTHSARIES&lt;br /&gt;Always celebrate anniversaries. Whether its the first or the 50th, each year together is a triumph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;APPRECIATION&lt;br /&gt;Let him know how much you love and appreciate him once in a while. He may know it already but hearing it from you is always better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Butter him up once in a while. Guys like to be reminded of their strong points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEST FRIENDS&lt;br /&gt;Make sure he's your best friend before you think of getting engaged. The strong bond of friendship will help you through tough times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be best friends, preferably even before being boyfriend-girlfriend. Take time to know each other so the relationship is a deep one. Tell him about your crushes, your dreams, your problems. Cry to him if you're going through a personal crisis. You'll be surprised how good his advice can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOND&lt;br /&gt;Make it a point to spend time together often, but leave enough room so he doesn't feel smothered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spend time alone with each other. Individuals can be involved separately in their own projects or careers and at the end of the day they share their experiences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHANGING EACH OTHER&lt;br /&gt;Don't marry an asshole. Once a jerk, always a jerk. You'll never change him. Really wait for the right guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get married thinknig he'll change for you. Its unfair to get involved with someone when you're thinking of doing an overhaul on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;COMPLIMENTS&lt;br /&gt;always compliment each other. This will prevent feelings of resentment and thinking that one is being taken for granted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DATE&lt;br /&gt;Keep doing things that you both enjoy, and do them together. Watching movies, playing badminton, people watching, reading and more. When you do things together and when these are things you both enjoy, how can you not have a wonderful relationship? Take note, this doesn't mean you have to do everything together. Shared pleasures is just one of those things that most couples forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make time and continue to date to keep the romance. Look good, smell good to maintain the physical attraction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DIFFERENCES&lt;br /&gt;Celebrate your differences (personality, upbringing, religion, mental ability, earning capacity, etc). Never force your ideologies down his throat, or vice versa. You both need to retain your individuality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give up trying to turn your partner into you. Accept your differences and learn to appreciate them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FIGHTS&lt;br /&gt;Fight with the aim to resolve the issue. Don't endlessly go on trying to outdo each other. The longer you extend the fight, the more chances you'll say something hurtful that you don't really mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world will not end if you both go to bed mad at each other. Forget what your mom or parish priest says. Trying to resolve big fights late at night is impossible, especially if you both have to go to school or work the next morning. In fact, sometimes an uncomfortable night of madness is just what you need so you see things clearly. As mad as you were last night, this is still the guy who laughs at your jokes and thinks you're hot, despite all the petty fags who go by. Go to bed mad at each other, and you will wake up feeling more strongly that you want to make up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Respect and trust each other. Even when having an all-out brawl, be careful not to cross the line with your partner. Or if you do, take a deep breath, suck it in, and apologize (but never get physical).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you fight, hear each other out but don't dig up old issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be careful what you say in a fight. You cannot take back hurtful, insulting words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Choose your battles: Make sure the fight will be worth it and that something will change in the relationship as a result of the fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't be afraid to talk, discuss, argue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLAWS&lt;br /&gt;Know the perfect guy does not exist (thank God I found someone pretty damn close). The sooner you realize this, the easier your relationship will be. Know that just as there are things that you love about him, there will be things that will drive you crazy. No matter who you're with, there will always be something. Just like you, he's only human with his own flaws and foibles. Lighten up and enjoy life. Try to shrug off the petty annoyances. In the long run of life, they don't matter a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FUN&lt;br /&gt;Have fun together! If you're going to be stuck in each other's company for the rest of your lives, the least you should do is enjoy your time together. This means keeping the fun and spontaneity that was there in the early days. Driving out for midnight snacks when the craving hits, talking till morning (even on a school day), running off on impromptu trips, having monday morning errand and breakfast days... whatever strikes your fancy. Nothing kills the fun faster than too much planning and too much scheduling. Ugh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allow yourselves to get silly. Shower together, pee with the door open, wear your ugly undies. The more barries you break physically, the more you break emotionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy being silly. Being able to make each other laugh and see the lighter, crazier absurd side of life is the best way to get through all the differences in personalities, adjustments in lifetyles and opposing viewpoints that exist in all relationships. Plus there's added bonus of keeping a happier perspective on things!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOALS&lt;br /&gt;Make sure you have similar goals as a team. It would be difficult to keep your bond intact of your views are complete opposites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GRUDGES&lt;br /&gt;Quit tabulating grudges. Le off steam when something's pissing you off, discuss it, then trash it. Dnot recycle it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KEEPING IT HOT&lt;br /&gt;Keep it hot by travelling to different places together. A new setting can do wonders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KISSING&lt;br /&gt;Make time for a real kiss at least once a day (and go wherever that takes you). I'm not talking about perfunctory pecks. I'm talking about taking a deep breath and just kissing him, at least once a day. At bedtime if you like, or before you each go to school or work. If the mood escalates, you can go with the flow, but you don't have to. Just kissing is intimate, romantic and relationship-strengthening in a very special way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KNOW EACH OTHER&lt;br /&gt;Learn about each other's interest. Be it cars, fashion, art, gadgets, books, music, sports, etc. It truly keeps the conversation flowing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HONESTY&lt;br /&gt;Don't lie or hide things. The problem will only get bigger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HUG&lt;br /&gt;A hug can be far more intimate than a kiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IDENTITY&lt;br /&gt;Don't lose your personality. Thats why he fell in love with you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't lose your identity. Work, study, hang out with your own friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have separate interests and activities to keep your individuality; and to be able to contribute more to the relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;INTENTIONS&lt;br /&gt;Wish each other well. Some couples, when they begin to dislike each other, they wish each other the worst! This is rather stupid. His success is yours and vice versa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ISSUES&lt;br /&gt;Speak up about the awkward stuff now, like money and sex. The earlier, the better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LISTEN&lt;br /&gt;When he talks to you about his problems, don't be too eager to solve them. Just make it a point to listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen, listen, listen. Hear each other out, especially during arguments. This will also keep you from saying hurtful words. Its not about getting your point across, its about comprehending each other's feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOOK GOOD&lt;br /&gt;Exercise together. It doesn't have to be three times a week or anything like that. Maybe you could have a gym date instead of a dinner date. Or jogging around sanlo park or have sex. Whatever it is, it has to be physical and at least once a week. When you keep in tune with your own body, its easier to tune into each other's bodies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mind your appearance! Stay fit and healthy for each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOVE&lt;br /&gt;It all boils down to your love, chemistry, and respect for each other. Your relationship can't really be planned or strategized. There are no fail-safe solutions or advice.&lt;br /&gt;MOTHERING&lt;br /&gt;Never mother him. Be his partner, not his mother!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MIND-READING&lt;br /&gt;No matter how long you've been together, the Golden Rule is: Do not think he can read your mind the way you can read his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEEDS&lt;br /&gt;Remeber to be good to yourself, then be good to him. That's what love is about, after all. Will this make him happy? Will this make him sad? Will he enjoy this? Consider his feelings. This doesn't mean you should forget about yourself. But he should be right up there too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be very attentive to his needs, that way he learns to do the same for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be sensitive to his needs, physically and of course emotionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PRIORITIES&lt;br /&gt;If one says its important, then it is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prioritize each other over friends, extended family, or work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PRIVACY&lt;br /&gt;Have personal space. Allow each other a private moment or two as needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RESPECT&lt;br /&gt;Create a strong sense of respect for him and yourself. That way you will always treat each other well. That should never change from Day One.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RIGHT REASONS TO BE TOGETHER&lt;br /&gt;If you can picture yourself growing old with him, then he's The One!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't bear being apart from each other. You want to grow old together, have children, and be the best you can be for each other/ You want to make short and long term goals togetherm or you want to fulfill each other's dreams or just make each other happy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SELF-ESTEEM&lt;br /&gt;Work on your self esteem. If if you're ok with yourself, you will deem your partner as ok too and that improves the relationship. When you bring  whole person to the relationship, you have more to give and have less emotional needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SEX&lt;br /&gt;Be sexually adventurous. Make each other feel comfortable sharing your sexual fantasies and frustrations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots and lots of sex! Being physical really keeps couples interested in each other. Make an effort all the time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SPACE&lt;br /&gt;Give each other space. Even couples who seemed joined at the hip need theit time to themselves. Have dates with your friends and give him is dates with his friends as well. If you can't trust each other with this, don't be together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SORRY&lt;br /&gt;Be able to say sorry when you're wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SURPRISES&lt;br /&gt;No matter how long you've known each other, be open to surprises, both good and bad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TALK&lt;br /&gt;Communicate through dialogue. This is an essential ingredient in successful, long relationships. Goos communication is almost a science as entire seminars have been devoted to this topic. Dialogue lets you tackle issures by sharing your feelings without judgments or criticism, active listening, then working up to a discussion for problem solving. Its not easy. It takes continuous effort and learning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell each other stories. Life goes by pretty fat, and it's easy to see how easily couples can grow apart. Whenever something funny, scary, exciting, or juicy happens to you or someone you know, tell him about it. And have him do the same. Keep each other in the loop of life, even by e-mail or phone talk if you have to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TEAMWORK&lt;br /&gt;Think for two and work as a team. Consult each other before making big decisions because everything will always affect the both of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strengthen couple power. In many cases, we have to decide based on what is best for the relationship in favor of our individual selves. No need to fear losing out individuality when we do this if our self-esteem is intact.&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/7154187-108978723672302783?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/108978723672302783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=108978723672302783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/108978723672302783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/108978723672302783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/07/secrets-of-happy-couples.html' title='Secrets of happy couples.'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-108773162086132475</id><published>2004-06-20T03:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-20T04:40:20.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A day of sheer bliss.</title><content type='html'>    Woke up at 10am. I ransacked my closet for something great to wear. Knowing that I will have a long and full day, I wanted to be relaxed so I opted to wear my red Oxygen shirt with my gray Nautica Clamdiggers and my trusty sandals. I went to my house in Makati to visit my mom first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    11:00am, when I reached my house in Makati, my mom emerged from the shower and told me that she wants to go shopping! Yey! So we went to glorietta to go shopping. We had brunch at French Baker Landmark branch and the food was great! After having brunch and a good conversation with my mom, I was starting to be really happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Not forgetting that I still have to meet Felix at 1pm, I decided to haul my ass along with my mom to the stores of Landmark to buy her stuff. She bought her stuff while I was standing around texting my Ate Barbie. Aware of the fact that shopping could take quite some time, I texted Felix and told him that I was gonna be late and wait for my text. I never thought shopping for clothes could take so long! And before I knew it, It was already 03:30! I was mortified! And as I watched my mom take the cab home and I found out that am fresh out of prepaid credits, I frantically ran to the nearest phone booth to call him up and uh oh! He sounds pretty pissed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Must admit I was pretty nervous to hear his voice. I ran from glorietta to Mercury drug park square to buy some stuff and headed to the MRT Ayala station.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    As I boarded the overloaded MRT car, I had no thought in mind but him. Was he mad? What am I gonna do? What Am I gonna say? I could hear my heart beating and my knees were growing weaker but I was standing up and I was drenched in sweat. And before I knew it, I was getting off at GMA Kamuning station.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I re-applied perfume and popped some breath mints while walking my way to Red Ribbons Kamias branch. Upon reaching Red Ribbons, my heart stopped. The noise around me suddenly stopped. I could hear my heart beating again. I was surrounded by silence despite the noises around me. There he was, in his gray shirt, looking disturbingly good! I entered the place and said hello. I apologized profusely because I was late and must admit it was partly my fault. He told me that he was having a headache. We decided to go somewhere private where we can be alone. We were lying in bed and I was just staring at him and I realized, we belong together. We like each other, we're crazy about each other and most of all we were in love. And I believe love will suffice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   When it was 11pm, we decided to hit the road and go to glorietta to have dinner in World Chicken but unfortunately, when we reached the place, World Chicken was closed already so we opted to have dinner at Wendy's. After the dinner, we talked a little and went down to go home. We smoked cigs while walking around glorietta. We both know its getting late yet I still wanted to stay longer, I opted to compromise. It was already almost 1am and he has to go all the back to kamias where he lives. He opted to see me off and I texted him when I got home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   It was nice. It was fun. It was sheer bliss...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-108773162086132475?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/108773162086132475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=108773162086132475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/108773162086132475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/108773162086132475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/06/day-of-sheer-bliss.html' title='A day of sheer bliss.'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-108736248715076876</id><published>2004-06-15T22:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-17T01:52:21.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love and the Stock Market</title><content type='html'>    I got to thinking about relationships and stock market. Stock market fluctuates and relationships do crumble. But the question remains, why keep investing?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-108736248715076876?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/108736248715076876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=108736248715076876' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/108736248715076876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/108736248715076876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/06/love-and-stock-market.html' title='Love and the Stock Market'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-108713335178891092</id><published>2004-06-13T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-13T06:29:11.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Last night</title><content type='html'>    Last night, Love infiltrated my system, engulfed my being and swallowed me whole. I lose all sense of time when I am with you. For me, everything stops when I'm around you. I couldn't feel the hours ticking away when we're together. I'm crazy about you. I love you and I want to be with you.&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/7154187-108713335178891092?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/108713335178891092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=108713335178891092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/108713335178891092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/108713335178891092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/06/last-night.html' title='Last night'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-108661571431477212</id><published>2004-06-07T06:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-07T06:41:54.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Immortal</title><content type='html'>I was listening to the song so I decided to put it in my blog. hehehe! wala lang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im so tired of being here.&lt;br /&gt;Supressed by all of my childish fears.&lt;br /&gt;But if you have to leave.&lt;br /&gt;I wish that you would just leave.&lt;br /&gt;Because your presence still lingers here.&lt;br /&gt;And it won't leave me alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These wounds won't seem to heal.&lt;br /&gt;This pain is just too real.&lt;br /&gt;There's just too much that time cannot erase.&lt;br /&gt;When you cry, I'd wipe away all of your tears.&lt;br /&gt;When you scream, I'd fight away all of your fears.&lt;br /&gt;I held your hand through all of these years.&lt;br /&gt;And you still have... &lt;br /&gt;All of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You used to captivate me by your resonating light.&lt;br /&gt;And now i'm bound by the life you left behind.&lt;br /&gt;Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams.&lt;br /&gt;Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This wounds won't seem to heal.&lt;br /&gt;This pain is just too real.&lt;br /&gt;There's just too much that time cannot erase.&lt;br /&gt;When you cry, I'd wipe away all of your tears.&lt;br /&gt;When you scream, I'd fight away all of your fears.&lt;br /&gt;I held your hand through all of these years.&lt;br /&gt;And you still have...&lt;br /&gt;All of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone.&lt;br /&gt;But though you're still with me.&lt;br /&gt;I've been alone all along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you cry, I'd wipe away all of your tears.&lt;br /&gt;When you scream, I'd fight away all of your fears.&lt;br /&gt;I held your hand through all of these years.&lt;br /&gt;And you still have...&lt;br /&gt;All of me.&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/7154187-108661571431477212?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/108661571431477212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=108661571431477212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/108661571431477212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/108661571431477212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/06/my-immortal.html' title='My Immortal'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-108661512837772649</id><published>2004-06-07T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-07T06:44:10.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Intervention</title><content type='html'>    Think of me singing this when you're feeling down and you start to lose hope and all you want to do is collapse. Think of me. Think of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got to save my baby.&lt;br /&gt;Because he makes me cry.&lt;br /&gt;I've got to make him happy.&lt;br /&gt;I've got to teach him how to fly.&lt;br /&gt;I want to take him higher.&lt;br /&gt;Way up like a bird in the sky.&lt;br /&gt;I want to calm him down now.&lt;br /&gt;I want to save his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know that Love will change us forever.&lt;br /&gt;And I know that Love will keep us together.&lt;br /&gt;And I know, I know, there is nothing to fear.&lt;br /&gt;And I know that Love will take us away from here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes its such a pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wanna tear it all down.&lt;br /&gt;Its easy to be lazy.&lt;br /&gt;And hard to go away from the crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know the road looks lonely.&lt;br /&gt;But that's just Satan's game.&lt;br /&gt;And either way my baby.&lt;br /&gt;Will never be the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know that Love will change us forever.&lt;br /&gt;And I know that Love will keep us together.&lt;br /&gt;And I know, I know , there is nothing to fear.&lt;br /&gt;And I know that Love will take us away from here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a blink of an eye everything could change.&lt;br /&gt;Say hello to your life, now you're living.&lt;br /&gt;This is it. From now on, its a brand new day.&lt;br /&gt;It was time to wake up from this dream [from this dream].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know the road looks lonely.&lt;br /&gt;But that's just Satan's game.&lt;br /&gt;And either way my baby.&lt;br /&gt;Will never be the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know [And I know] that love [that love] will change us forever&lt;br /&gt;And I know [And I know] that love [that love]&lt;br /&gt;Will keep [that love] us together [that love]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know [And I know] that love [that love] will change us forever&lt;br /&gt;And I know [And I know] that love [that love] will keep us together&lt;br /&gt;And I know [And I know], I know [I know] there is nothing to fear&lt;br /&gt;And I know [And I know] that love [that love] will take us away from here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/7154187-108661512837772649?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/108661512837772649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=108661512837772649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/108661512837772649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/108661512837772649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/06/intervention.html' title='Intervention'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7154187.post-108590509109223456</id><published>2004-05-30T00:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-30T01:18:11.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Immaterial boy</title><content type='html'> &lt;br /&gt;In a world where Gucci heels and Prada bags are considered dire necessities, diamonds are every girl's best friend and formerly for-men-only techie gadgets have evolved ito ultimate fashionista accessories, the 'material girl' phenomenon is anything but surprising. In fact it has become such a universal trush that it might as well have been predicted by Nostradamus. In the 80s, Madonna sang about being one. These days, virtually everyone is one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From a philosophical context, materialism deems physical metter as the only ultimate reality. From a fashionista perspective, it refers to an irresistible and irrepressible urge to own things that have zero affordability points. From a relationship context, it simply reads: gold-digger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently had dinner with a bunch of friends from high school, most of whom I hadn't seen or shared a real conversationwith in a while. Much to my astonishment, one of them is dating a guy 13 years her senior. I'm not against dating older men. I'm actually a firm believer in the "age/height/weight doesn't matter" aphorism of love. I am, however, against her dating him for "practical" reasons. Translation: He's filthy rich and can buy her everything her materialistic little heart desires--and more. I was flabbergasted! After the cat returned my tongue, I was able to digest her remark. I asked if she loved him. Her blase response? No, but I think i can learn to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst part of it was half the table actually agreed with her. She explained that she couldn't possibly be with someone who--gasp!--couldn't afford to buy her expensive jewelry or take her on fancy trips abroad. I honestly felt, at that moment, that she and some of my friends had crossed from being shallow to being much, much worse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but wonder, is that what she dreamed of when she was little? Is this what she waited for all her life? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll admit, I'm a material boy myself. I can be often found oohing and aahing at the fingerprint-free glass counter of Rustan's. I love my Neiman Marcus sweater to distraction and I'm often found prowling the mall. I cannot live without expensive restos to match my swanky tastebuds. I must religiously slather on a ludicrously expensive night cream, if only to ensure that I will indeed get my beauty sleep every night. I dream of someday owning a private yacht that I can sail to my own tropical island. I buy stuff I don't need regardless of wether or not my mom's credit card is already maxed out--all this to satiate my insatiable materialistic urges. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I don't and won't choose my partner based on the size of their bank account. I refuse to stoop to that level of superficiality. Even I, with my Neiman Marcus sweater and night cream, have my limits. I will crawl down the isle covered in grease and clad in tattered clothing to marry the man I love. And although I admit its nice to be with a man who can buy me the world, If he can't, I'd love him just the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is, I know in my heart that while I am still something sans the material extravagances, without love, I am nothing. The smug gratification from the purchase of a Neiman Marcus sweater could never compare to the divine ecstasy felt from the miracle of a first kiss. The fulfillment these pricey indulgences give is about as fleeting as the moment the last dollop of night cream is consumed, but the fulfillment of finding your one true love ensures a lifetime and beyond. Love is something that never runs out, loses worth, or goes out of style. It is something that gives you that indescribably tingly, happy, heavenly feeling that no amount of money can buy. It does not come in a fancy box, a classy bottle, or a glitzy platinum setting like all the other imperfect tangible treasures. Rather, love is packaged as it is, devoid of a price tag, as the most perfect intangible treasure in this world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will love for love, and marry for love. In an age where material girls and boys are a dime a dozen, I choose to be an Immaterial boy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7154187-108590509109223456?l=thehyperballad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/feeds/108590509109223456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7154187&amp;postID=108590509109223456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/108590509109223456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7154187/posts/default/108590509109223456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehyperballad.blogspot.com/2004/05/immaterial-boy.html' title='Immaterial boy'/><author><name>Hyperballad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10110310321504924036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
