<?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-8524662325161689706</id><updated>2011-08-22T08:40:28.094-07:00</updated><category term='Day to day'/><title type='text'>Pink-a-boo</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://astarikeumala.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8524662325161689706/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://astarikeumala.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Keke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15281998998400679799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qWhEKSfn1Js/TBPd1ZdAK8I/AAAAAAAAAOU/H3Eoruh3Ksw/S220/IMG02166-20100606-0007.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>2</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8524662325161689706.post-8512789363606291221</id><published>2010-09-20T23:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T01:04:11.166-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day to day'/><title type='text'>Deep inside My Heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Well, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I dont understand this. I wish that I could just escape from me, from everyone, from this. I know it's simple, it's too simple, I can't forget and it hurts. Will it ever just... go away from my mind? I'm trying, trying and keep trying, but what I get?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I feel bad for even speaking it. I should just keep this shit to myself. It's no one elses problem that I have feelings, just mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Unfortunately I've found a way, it can be a very slow process. But I'm not too sure about it. It's just waiting for the moment when my lord show me who "you-are"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I try so hard, NOT think about it, to not remember, to not wish. But in reality, I always do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;It never fails that with every waking breath and step I take, you're there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I don't know I find myself or just hiding from myself, lying to myself just to make it through my everyday. Well it just doesnt work like that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; hahaha i'm mad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; I spend my days with stir up my memories&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;. S-T-U-P-I-D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Well the truth of the matter is, in short, I CAN'T run from you. I can't run from my addictions. And I most certainly can't run when you ARE the addiction. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You may not be here with me but thoughts of you are always in my hearts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oh i'm so lame.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8524662325161689706-8512789363606291221?l=astarikeumala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://astarikeumala.blogspot.com/feeds/8512789363606291221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://astarikeumala.blogspot.com/2010/09/deep-inside-my-heart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8524662325161689706/posts/default/8512789363606291221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8524662325161689706/posts/default/8512789363606291221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://astarikeumala.blogspot.com/2010/09/deep-inside-my-heart.html' title='Deep inside My Heart'/><author><name>Keke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15281998998400679799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qWhEKSfn1Js/TBPd1ZdAK8I/AAAAAAAAAOU/H3Eoruh3Ksw/S220/IMG02166-20100606-0007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8524662325161689706.post-2199538226836015135</id><published>2010-08-13T06:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-13T06:54:31.017-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day to day'/><title type='text'>I MISS MY SCHOOL LIFE</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you were still using your uniform, struggling with papers and homeworks, annoyed with your teacher, or the other things that make you hated the school, i only could say "smile and enjoy it".  And when you say the college is better than school you're totally WRONG.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And here i am, a new-college-girl who miss her moments w her school. Yes I really miss the fun, excitement, hang outs and many things about it. I miss my closest friends, my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;wonderzxc&lt;/span&gt;, I really feel comfortable when I’m with them. With them, I can do anything I want. They’ve been very care to me. We are very different from each other and that's what I love about them. Sometimes we get into fight but that's sometimes. And when we do fight,  and end sweetly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I miss dirt talking with them, I miss listen they weird word, I miss when we're yelling in front of the class, I miss when we're dancing together like crazy, I miss all the things that our did together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And now it's terrible to think that those people that you became friends with for a long time will end up going in different ways. Now I think about college and the new people I will be meeting and becoming friends with. It's scary to know that your best friends will not be there for you no. And when I say that I mean next to you. Sitting with you in class. Meeting new folks that might not be like your old friends it's kind of scary because you don't know them. But I'm trying&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But that's how life is, it's moving. That's what High School is all about. People leave and some come back, but what I do know is that my best friends will always be there and aren't going any where. Cause I'm not ready to let them go yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to the fact that your high school mate are the most precious people on earth. They are always there for you and always will be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;XOXO,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Keke&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8524662325161689706-2199538226836015135?l=astarikeumala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://astarikeumala.blogspot.com/feeds/2199538226836015135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://astarikeumala.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-miss-my-school.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8524662325161689706/posts/default/2199538226836015135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8524662325161689706/posts/default/2199538226836015135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://astarikeumala.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-miss-my-school.html' title='I MISS MY SCHOOL LIFE'/><author><name>Keke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15281998998400679799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qWhEKSfn1Js/TBPd1ZdAK8I/AAAAAAAAAOU/H3Eoruh3Ksw/S220/IMG02166-20100606-0007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
