<?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-8427726904537942726</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:15:15.139-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A beautiful Disaster</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jexy-sizzlingpandisal.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8427726904537942726/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jexy-sizzlingpandisal.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jexy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13961046164943028087</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SM9YAxr-QuI/AAAAAAAAAAc/rfY0njDHlNg/S220/b+(41).JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8427726904537942726.post-2042146487181369729</id><published>2008-11-09T19:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T20:39:08.408-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The boy and his guitar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SRpdsr37jCI/AAAAAAAAACY/iq3PhZ98p1w/s1600-h/ist2_2916962-romantic-red-guitar-with-roses.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SRpdsr37jCI/AAAAAAAAACY/iq3PhZ98p1w/s320/ist2_2916962-romantic-red-guitar-with-roses.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267625736436157474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By: Jex Faith Alfanta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One summer of May&lt;br /&gt;I heard a lonesome music play&lt;br /&gt;and i listened to it by heart&lt;br /&gt;it whispered " I'm not so far"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I walked toward the music lure me&lt;br /&gt;and not long there stood before me&lt;br /&gt;The boy and his guitar                   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lad to me was a stranger&lt;br /&gt;but i felt my heart was in danger&lt;br /&gt;for when he cast a dashing smile&lt;br /&gt;it was enough to make me stay a while&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His music lingered in the air&lt;br /&gt;and his voice was the music to my ears&lt;br /&gt;his strumming cast a magical charm&lt;br /&gt;and promises of love so warm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed, his music was the finest in town&lt;br /&gt;but what makes it more worth a crown?&lt;br /&gt;It is his vow that the music was for me&lt;br /&gt;Exclusively!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But like winter invading summer&lt;br /&gt;his vow slowly dried and withered&lt;br /&gt;his melody's warmness gives me nothing now&lt;br /&gt;but chills over my spines somehow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One July after May &lt;br /&gt;I heard a familiar music play&lt;br /&gt;and as I listened to it's sweet refrain&lt;br /&gt;I felt my heart cracked in dreadful pain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For when I followed where the music lure me&lt;br /&gt;there he was, singing his song to every girl he meets&lt;br /&gt;and not just for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, his music is still the finest in town&lt;br /&gt;but what makes it more worth my frown?&lt;br /&gt;Well, those melodies means nothing to me now&lt;br /&gt;but memories of the boy and his guitar's broken vow&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8427726904537942726-2042146487181369729?l=jexy-sizzlingpandisal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jexy-sizzlingpandisal.blogspot.com/feeds/2042146487181369729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8427726904537942726&amp;postID=2042146487181369729' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8427726904537942726/posts/default/2042146487181369729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8427726904537942726/posts/default/2042146487181369729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jexy-sizzlingpandisal.blogspot.com/2008/11/boy-and-his-guitar.html' title='The boy and his guitar'/><author><name>Jexy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13961046164943028087</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SM9YAxr-QuI/AAAAAAAAAAc/rfY0njDHlNg/S220/b+(41).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SRpdsr37jCI/AAAAAAAAACY/iq3PhZ98p1w/s72-c/ist2_2916962-romantic-red-guitar-with-roses.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8427726904537942726.post-6032880195433126865</id><published>2008-10-16T00:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T00:49:29.909-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My little Angel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SPbu9-As1pI/AAAAAAAAACQ/pdQF7yX2BcI/s1600-h/cit+(234).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SPbu9-As1pI/AAAAAAAAACQ/pdQF7yX2BcI/s320/cit+(234).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257652363387000466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SPbuX64kDLI/AAAAAAAAACI/WuDe3QFteq4/s1600-h/family+pic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SPbuX64kDLI/AAAAAAAAACI/WuDe3QFteq4/s400/family+pic.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257651709712534706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SPbtrrerCKI/AAAAAAAAACA/933EBrJSlgc/s1600-h/elijah+(113).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SPbtrrerCKI/AAAAAAAAACA/933EBrJSlgc/s320/elijah+(113).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257650949663164578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SPbtRJRECrI/AAAAAAAAAB4/0n6tFRRUXVU/s1600-h/_DSC0086.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SPbtRJRECrI/AAAAAAAAAB4/0n6tFRRUXVU/s320/_DSC0086.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257650493802678962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was attending my class when I heard my cellphone beeped. It was a text message from my mama saying "He is here, and he looks like you".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those words really made me very happy and at the same time excited. "It has been a long time since we had a new member in the family" I said to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I waited eagerly for our dismissal I then started to wonder. Is he cute?... or maybe not? Oh I hope he is. Does he have his mothers eyes? I hope not! hehe. But I hope he got his mothers cute dimples because I think it is attractive chaks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed I was very excited to see him for the very first time.&lt;br /&gt;For the pass nine months I could only hear his heart beat through the stethoscope and feel his gentle movements when I touch the stomach where he had been staying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, while I was going on my wondering, a thought came into my mind. A thought that I never wanted to entertain, but I did anyway!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The baby is a blessing from God" I always hear that line from the people around me. But is it really true? I asked myself again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right then,I recalled the time when my sister unexpectedly got pregnant. She just turned twenty when she came to me and confessed about a mistake which I thought she could never be part of. Back then, I felt the pain of disappointment and betrayal but little by little I also came to realize that she is not perfect and she too could make mistakes, even those that are unexpected from her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That day I had a feeling that our family would never be the same again. I could only hope not, I really hate changes because change is sad and painful specially when you want every thing to stay the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just as when I wanted to be wrong-- I was very right. Well, how could I expect my family to stay the same after my sisters shocking revelation. There was nothing I could do then but to watch and feel the pain of division in the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That memory got stock in my mind and went on repeatedly as I made my way to the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was not long till I found myself at the ward where I first met the little angel.&lt;br /&gt;I remember seeing my sister laying down the hospital bed, her face was looking so exhausted yet happy. Then I noticed the little moving object that was warped by a white cloth placed beside my sister, right then I knew, it was him. The small guy, who came to change our lives completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was so adorable that the moment I placed my eyes on him, I totally fell in love. Happiness- this was the word that best describes by feelings that moment and with that I felt inside I promised my self that I will take care of him for as long as he is still here with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I was not the only one feeling that way. My parents were happy too, perhaps The amount of gladness and love that they felt that instance was twice as much as I felt. The bitterness and sadness of my parents was washed away by the charming cry of the baby boy as if it was a spell cast by the heavens towards them. Right then they too fell in love as I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed the baby was an angel, and we love him so much...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as much as we love him and want him to stay, I know, that their well come a time that he will live us to find the part of heaven where he truly belong.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8427726904537942726-6032880195433126865?l=jexy-sizzlingpandisal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jexy-sizzlingpandisal.blogspot.com/feeds/6032880195433126865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8427726904537942726&amp;postID=6032880195433126865' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8427726904537942726/posts/default/6032880195433126865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8427726904537942726/posts/default/6032880195433126865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jexy-sizzlingpandisal.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-little-angel.html' title='My little Angel'/><author><name>Jexy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13961046164943028087</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SM9YAxr-QuI/AAAAAAAAAAc/rfY0njDHlNg/S220/b+(41).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SPbu9-As1pI/AAAAAAAAACQ/pdQF7yX2BcI/s72-c/cit+(234).JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8427726904537942726.post-4395167364517081580</id><published>2008-09-15T22:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T23:45:16.549-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My first BLOg</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SM9SOE6s-0I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/mTb3F4DgoJ0/s1600-h/DSC00032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SM9SOE6s-0I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/mTb3F4DgoJ0/s320/DSC00032.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246502492701522754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;September 16, 2009, 2:04 pm.. this is the time and date that I will never forget in my whole blogging life.&lt;br /&gt;This is the day when I discovered that I was wrong. Wrong in thinking that these such things are waste of time and money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before, It really made me wonder why people who are expose to this hobbit just cant have enough of it. Well, whatever it is that keeps them hooked is still unclear to me as of the moment, but I have this feeling that I am experiencing it right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I scanned and read my friend's blogs, I thought to myself, how wonderful it is to express your thoughts and opinions to the world in just an instant. It must be nice to tell the world how you feel when things had gone wrong and how every thing went well in your life for the pass days. Some of my friends are even so emotional in their blogs that it sometimes makes me laugh like this... hehehahahawhaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But really, its not that I am being insensitive to their feeling, its just that I consider "emo" moments controversial and they should only be shared to those who are close to you. However it is kind a surprising how people easily reveal these feeling to others around the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess this makes blogging exciting, It hides your shame so well as if it did not exist. Well, who knows that these shameless revelations would be worth while. Maybe some people could read their emotional stories and touch their hearts, or better yet, they could even be inspired... Or maybe.. NOT.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8427726904537942726-4395167364517081580?l=jexy-sizzlingpandisal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jexy-sizzlingpandisal.blogspot.com/feeds/4395167364517081580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8427726904537942726&amp;postID=4395167364517081580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8427726904537942726/posts/default/4395167364517081580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8427726904537942726/posts/default/4395167364517081580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jexy-sizzlingpandisal.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-first-blog.html' title='My first BLOg'/><author><name>Jexy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13961046164943028087</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SM9YAxr-QuI/AAAAAAAAAAc/rfY0njDHlNg/S220/b+(41).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OUcueUS2-EE/SM9SOE6s-0I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/mTb3F4DgoJ0/s72-c/DSC00032.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
