<?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-30349090</id><updated>2011-07-29T14:52:41.913+08:00</updated><category term='Closed Doors/Open Closets (Queer Moments)'/><category term='Closed Doors/Open Closets (Queer Friends)'/><category term='Everyday Thoughts'/><title type='text'>The Blue Unicorn Journals</title><subtitle type='html'>Those who touched my body failed to arouse my heart and those who aroused my body failed to touch my heart....Anyone who can make me melt like a hot caramel fudge sundae in a mid summer's noon?

*** I'm the Blue Unicorn - A Wild Mythical Animal .. Tame me!

The Blue Unicorn Journal is a diaspora  of how I live my life - how I view it, my thoughts about anything and everything in this world and beyond.

Join me in my journey as I go through  my beautiful yet savage garden called life!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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>59</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30349090.post-8627450915219107490</id><published>2010-06-23T19:08:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T19:08:50.702+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Loving in silence</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}" style="font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; "&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;I chose to love you in silence, for in silence I find no rejection. I chose to love you in your loneliness, for in your loneliness no one owns you, but me ....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-8627450915219107490?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/8627450915219107490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=8627450915219107490&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/8627450915219107490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/8627450915219107490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2010/06/loving-in-silence.html' title='Loving in silence'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-2200675337058818662</id><published>2009-03-06T04:36:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T04:56:12.749+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Current state of my heart &amp; mind</title><content type='html'>I may say I'm just ok...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may smile all thru the way...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may laugh hard as if I'm not worrying...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may talk a lot as if I know what I'm saying...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if one time you'd get to see, what's really inside of me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why I try to be funny and crazy, Please dont ask why...just please SMILE with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-2200675337058818662?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/2200675337058818662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=2200675337058818662&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/2200675337058818662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/2200675337058818662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2009/03/current-feeling.html' title='Current state of my heart &amp; mind'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-2184562209237392828</id><published>2008-11-15T07:32:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T07:37:22.209+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Letter (A touching piece of work)</title><content type='html'>One day, I will disappear completely. The letters will mean nothing. The world will get tired of me. You will get tired of me. I will get tired of myself, and I…and I will never get tired of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For you..there will be NO endings. I will say your name over and over like a refrain. My prayer to no one. then I’ll be a flower, the one you’ll never pick and will endure the breathless waiting until boundaries disappear.With nothing to do, I make new constellations images of you as I remember. Dancing, sitting, walking. There are stars from a different view, but still I see nothing but you. Unfurling like a flower, swiveling like a leaf. I once watched you sleep beside me. It was dark then, but the darkness is deeper now. Tonight in my dreams I will see you. The love of my life, clothed only in light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a kite, I’ve given myself up to the wind. I made friends with the sun. Confuse the birds with strange and distant voyages, but it is you that ties the thread and holds me down. Like a kite, I will forver hold your hand and with a burning human longing in your hands, I surrender....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My life started when I loved you and that’s how I want it to end.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*** The post came from JEKAY's Blog; whoever originally wrote this must have been my soulmate! ****&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-2184562209237392828?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/2184562209237392828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=2184562209237392828&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/2184562209237392828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/2184562209237392828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/11/letter-touching-piece-of-work.html' title='The Letter (A touching piece of work)'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-5229466119046523140</id><published>2008-11-15T07:16:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T07:25:50.351+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Love Letter (Circa 2004)</title><content type='html'>Mahal,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi! I hope everythings ok with you this past fewdays.If ever you would like to know what hashappened to me, well everythings ok - I just damn MISS you so much and yes - Im hating it...hatingit coz' its beyond me and I have nothing to do but to think about you every second of every day...But missing you is not the purpose of thisletter.Im writting you this letter to tell you thingst hat is on my mind right now.Things that is clogging my psyche for the past weeks.Thoughts thats have been playing in my mind which causes a mixture of joy and disturbance.Its been a few weeks now, and almost every givend ay that we have the opportunity - we meet, have breakfast, go out for lunch,go out with myfriends, stay in your place or hang-out in my apartment. These moments are always full of sweetness,laughters, exchange of sweet nothings and loads of stories about ourselves or just play naughty with each other. All of these things although quit short has already curved a niche within me.Strange it may seem coz' its never been like this in my past few relationships.Its been a long time since I was really serious with someone and honestly, Its always hard for me to trust and give my love to anyone.I have been into a lot of short term flings inthe past - so many that I honestly dont even remember their names, or even the places or circumstances why I have met them. I also had my lionshare of one-night-stands and constant bedbuddies in the past, people who shared with me afew momemts of unheralded passion and bliss yet,so few if none really got into my fancy.Most of them are just like your ordinary spurr-of-the-moment just to statisfy ones need at that time.Honesty, and I hope you'll forgive me, in the beggining I thought your just one of those people.I never really knew that everything will be different - that everything will change when I've met you.Friends who knows me and who have already met you said that it would be foolish to fall in love much less to be serious with you. They say you are young - still very much impulsive,very much adventerous and that we are imcompatible in manyways.I can only say that there maybe alot ofthings that we would be hearing from other peoplein the future but be rest assured that whateverthey say it would never really mean to me for I only care for you.They would never know how much love Im feeling from you.You always make me very special whenever were together, all those moments I shared with you always lingeres in my thoughts which makes it harder not to be with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thank you for bringing me back faith in love -love that goes beyond the norms of this society.Thank you for giving me hope - hope that gives me streangth to move into this world full of namesless and faceless people who cares for nothing but themselves and their personal gain.Thank you for making me find peace - peace that once was mine and was lost in this savage garden called life but, now because of you I have found once more... and now I am in perfect harmony with my innerself.Thank you for your love - thank you for letting me love you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;( I've written the letter above April 2004 for someone I've almost though to spend life forver...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*** I found this at the sent items on my email.... I just thought of posting it here as a memorial of the love I had for him then ... ****&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-5229466119046523140?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/5229466119046523140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=5229466119046523140&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/5229466119046523140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/5229466119046523140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/11/love-letter-circa-2004.html' title='A Love Letter (Circa 2004)'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-1707582154881107804</id><published>2008-07-28T02:25:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T02:43:04.851+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MEN - What and Who they really are! (from Oprah)</title><content type='html'>If a man wants you, nothing can keep him away.&lt;br /&gt;If he doesn't want you, nothing can make him stay.&lt;br /&gt;Stop making excuses for a man and his behavior.&lt;br /&gt;Allow your intuition (or spirit) to save you from heartache.&lt;br /&gt;Stop trying to change yourself for a relationship that's not meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slower is better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never live your life for a man before you find what makes you truly happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a relationship ends because the man was not treating you as you deserve then heck no, you can't "be friends". A friend wouldn't mistreat a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't settle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you feel like he is stringing you along, then he probably is&lt;br /&gt;Don't stay because you think "it will get better"&lt;br /&gt;You'll be mad at yourself a year later for staying when things are not better.&lt;br /&gt;The only person you can control in a relationship is you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avoid men who've got a bunch of children by a bunch of different women..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't marry them when he got them pregnant, why would he treat you any differently?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always have your own set of friends separate from his.&lt;br /&gt;Maintain boundaries in how a guy treats you.&lt;br /&gt;If something bothers you, speak up..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never let a man know everything.* He will use it against you later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You cannot change a man's behavior.* Change comes from within.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't EVER make him feel he is more important than you are...&lt;br /&gt;Even if he has more education or in a better job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do not make him into a quasi-god.&lt;br /&gt;He is a man, nothing more nothing less.&lt;br /&gt;Never let a man define who you are.&lt;br /&gt;Never borrow someone else's man.&lt;br /&gt;If he cheated with you, he'll cheat on you.&lt;br /&gt;A man will only treat you the way you ALLOW him to treat you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All men are NOT dogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You should not be the one doing all the bending...&lt;br /&gt;Compromise is two way street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You need time to heal between relationships. ..&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing cute about baggage...&lt;br /&gt;Deal with your issues before pursuing a new relationship&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You should never look for someone to COMPLETE you...&lt;br /&gt;A relationship consists of two WHOLE individuals. ..&lt;br /&gt;Look for someone complimentary. ...not supplementary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dating is fun...even if he doesn't turn out to be Mr. Right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make him miss you sometimes... when a man always know where you are, and you're always readily available to him - he takes it for granted&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never move into his mother's house.. Never co-sign for a man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't fully commit to a man who doesn't give you everything that you need.*&lt;br /&gt;Keep him in your radar but get to know others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scared of being alone is what makes a lot of women stay in relationships that are abusive or hurtful: Dr. Phill&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You should know that:&lt;br /&gt;You're the best thing that could ever happen to anyone and if a man mistreats you, he'll miss out on a good thing. If he was attracted to you in the 1st place, just know that he's not the only one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They're all watching you, so you have a lot of choices.&lt;br /&gt;Make the right one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-1707582154881107804?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/1707582154881107804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=1707582154881107804&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/1707582154881107804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/1707582154881107804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/07/men-what-and-who-they-really-are-from.html' title='MEN - What and Who they really are! (from Oprah)'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-2764789403076589066</id><published>2008-06-28T04:56:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T05:01:37.579+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Everyday Thoughts'/><title type='text'>The Players Down Fall</title><content type='html'>I wanna  be the person who makes the PLAYER fall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be the person who makes him drool after all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be the person who shakes his score and quit his GAME&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To stick with ME to the end and draw HEARTS around MY name...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-2764789403076589066?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/2764789403076589066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=2764789403076589066&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/2764789403076589066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/2764789403076589066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/06/players-down-fall.html' title='The Players Down Fall'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-6058609285597122190</id><published>2008-06-24T07:33:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T07:44:03.828+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Everyday Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Wishing...</title><content type='html'>For once ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be the reason why he cut his hair just because I told him so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason why he eats something just because its my favorite food...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason why he buys a shirt because I have the same color...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason why he falls asleep while holding his phone at night...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason why he loves something he used to hate coz' I love it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And lastly, I wanna be the reason why he smiles and laugh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be the "because" of his ever "why's"....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-6058609285597122190?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/6058609285597122190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=6058609285597122190&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/6058609285597122190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/6058609285597122190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/06/wishing.html' title='Wishing...'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-3521440714978348794</id><published>2008-06-14T18:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T18:20:07.450+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Closed Doors/Open Closets (Queer Friends)'/><title type='text'>Closing Cycles</title><content type='html'>One always has to know when a stage comes to an end. If we insist on staying longer than the necessary time, we lose the happiness and the meaning of the other stages we have to go through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Closing cycles, shutting doors, ending chapters whatever name we give it, what matters is to leave in the past the moments of life that have finished. Did you lose your job? Has a loving relationship come to an end? Did you leave your parents' house? Gone to live abroad? Has a long-lasting friendship ended all of a sudden?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can spend a long time wondering why this has happened. You can tell yourself you won't take another step until you find out why certain things that were so important and so solid in your life have turned into dust, just like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But such an attitude will be awfully stressing for everyone involved: your parents, your husband or wife, your friends, your children, your sister, everyone will be finishing chapters, turning over new leaves, getting on with life, and they will all feel bad seeing you at a standstill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of us can be in the present and the past at the same time, not even when we try to understand the things that happen to us. What has passed will not return: we cannot for ever be children, late adolescents, sons that feel guilt or rancor towards our parents, lovers who day and night relive an affair with someone who has gone away and has not the least intention of coming back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things pass, and the best we can do is to let them really go away. That is why it is so important (however painful it maybe!) to destroy souvenirs, move, give lots of things away to orphanages, sell or donate the books you have at home. Everything in this visible world is a manifestation of the invisible world, of what is going on in our hearts and getting rid of certain memories also means making some room for other memories to take their place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let things go. Release them. Detach yourself from them. Nobody plays this life with marked cards, so sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. Do not expect anything in return, do not expect your efforts to be appreciated, your genius to be discovered, your love to be understood. Stop turning on your emotional television to watch the same program over and over again, the one that shows how much you suffered from a certain loss: that is only poisoning you, nothing else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is more dangerous than not accepting love relationships that are broken off, work that is promised but there is no starting date, decisions that are always put off waiting for the ideal moment. Before a new chapter is begun, the old one has to be finished: tell yourself that what has passed will never come back. Remember that there was a time when you could live without that thing or that person. Nothing is irreplaceable. A habit is not a need. This may sound so obvious, it may even be difficult, but it is very important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Closing cycles. Not because of pride, incapacity or arrogance, but simply because that no longer fits your life. Shut the door, change the record, clean the house, shake off the dust. Stop being who you were, and change into who you are....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-3521440714978348794?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/3521440714978348794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=3521440714978348794&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/3521440714978348794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/3521440714978348794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/06/closing-cycles.html' title='Closing Cycles'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-3890106990237679245</id><published>2008-05-28T03:37:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T02:39:25.401+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Latest updates on the life of the Blue Unicorn</title><content type='html'>To all my friends and all the thousands of readers of my blogs who have been asking me what are the latest  updates about my personal life, here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I'm still madly in-love with my "baby". We've been together for 2 years now.&lt;br /&gt;2. Thanks to hard work and perseverance plus ALOT of prayers, I am now a Manager in the Human Resource Department of the company where I belong. It was a long journey to reach this coveted post and yet I still know I have a long way to go in terms of my professional career.&lt;br /&gt;3. I was able to save and invest in different financial investment which I am planning to continue in 10-15 years to ensure that I have enough money to put up my dream business - a restaurant chain and a hotel-resort !&lt;br /&gt;4. I'm still putting most of my savings in my Retirement Fund c/o a reputable Investment &amp;amp; Insurance company which would ensure a comfortable life for me when I grow old&lt;br /&gt;5. I'm planning to start another blog that would focus on Human Resource so that budding HR professionals can learn from what I have learned in my career.&lt;br /&gt;6. My 1st real estate investment - a condominium unit is already being build after LONG months of waiting. My very own crib. After this my next plan is to save for my 1st house &amp;amp; lot.&lt;br /&gt;7. My relationship with my siblings and my Mom is getting stronger. They would be based in the US very soon and I try to have quality bonding time with them as much as I can.&lt;br /&gt;8. I have been featured in a Jobsdb.com as a featured employee (for my work as Assistant Manager) in my previous company and my blog was also featured in a filipino gayblog site.&lt;br /&gt;9. I'm hoping to finish my 1st book - Closed Doors/Open Closets&lt;br /&gt;10. I started going to the gym ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far my life right now revolves at work and my family But I am hoping that by mid year I would find time to travel again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-3890106990237679245?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/3890106990237679245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=3890106990237679245&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/3890106990237679245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/3890106990237679245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/05/latest-updates-on-life-of-blue-unicorn.html' title='Latest updates on the life of the Blue Unicorn'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-4948867854179487405</id><published>2008-04-30T06:54:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T03:37:08.879+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Everyday Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Don't be JUST an option ....</title><content type='html'>"Somewhere between heartaches and waiting, comes the chance to be found by someone who can show you that you don't have to be just an option but the choice..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-4948867854179487405?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/4948867854179487405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=4948867854179487405&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/4948867854179487405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/4948867854179487405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/04/dont-be-just-option-unfinished.html' title='Don&apos;t be JUST an option ....'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-7124662202631109827</id><published>2008-04-17T04:51:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T05:36:32.543+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Closed Doors/Open Closets (Queer Friends)'/><title type='text'>The Best Man is BEST for the Groom (Unfinished)</title><content type='html'>(My thoughts about my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bestfriend's&lt;/span&gt;  wedding)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday, perhaps the saddest but most lovable thing that could ever happen to you is when you are talking with your best friend a day before his wedding and then tells you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"This could ha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" tabindex="10" onclick="return false;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; been US if we weren't both men."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I never liked weddings. I have no fancy for this kinds of celebrations and I’m not a big fan of any type of ceremonial event. I don't feel the drama that most people feel. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; have any care about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;grandiose&lt;/span&gt; church settings, the  flowers that were used or the colors that were worn or even where the reception would be held.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People would always act all sappy the entire day. There are lots of hugs and kisses and fancy uncomfortable clothes. Congratulations all around! Let me toast the fact that you made it to your wedding day. I'll really be impressed if those couples actually stay married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me make this clear. I don't hate people who have them. In fact, I am genuinely happy for the people being married when I attend a wedding, since as a general rule they are pretty happy about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hate the fact that someone like me would never be married in the same fashion like every "normal" couple would.  And I cry buckets of tears whenever I recall how my "formerly gay" best friend got married....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now normally I'm not a guy who will put someone down for wanting to spend their life with someone they love, But when my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;best friend&lt;/span&gt; told me that he decided to get married I froze and felt a hundred knives being pinned in my chest. It was a tragedy that I never expected to happen.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-7124662202631109827?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/7124662202631109827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=7124662202631109827&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/7124662202631109827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/7124662202631109827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/04/best-man-is-best-for-groom-unfinished.html' title='The Best Man is BEST for the Groom (Unfinished)'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30349090.post-3223789900975313685</id><published>2008-04-17T04:37:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T04:50:15.187+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Closed Doors/Open Closets (Queer Moments)'/><title type='text'>Amidst the Smoke and Booz (Circa 2001)</title><content type='html'>(from the pages of my diary...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said nothing upon hearing Miles frantically professed how she still badly wanted Kaye back in her arms. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; even bother say any word of encouragement for her to at least manage to feel relieved and eventually function well once more. I did nothing. Not that I was droopy towards the episode. It was just because Miles - my best girl &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;budd&lt;/span&gt; and steady emotional partner in life,love and crime, unintentionally made me reminisce a vivid picture of what was it like to be left alone by someone who told you would stand by your side no matter what, someone who told you that love would conquer all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miles was crying loudly while relentlessly drinking a bottle of draft beer and continuously puffing her cigar. For almost five extensive years of solid and unadulterated friendship, that was the only night I saw her lost herself. I can’t blame her. Kaye, her girlfriend for over two years, apparently exchanged her for a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;japanese&lt;/span&gt; social &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;nightbird&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said nothing upon hearing Miles frantically professed how she still badly wanted Kaye back in her arms. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t even bother say any word of encouragement for her to at least manage to feel relieved and eventually function well once more. I did nothing. Not that I was droopy towards the episode. It was just because Miles unintentionally made me reminisce a vivid picture of what was it like to be left alone by someone who told you would stand by your side no matter what, someone who told you that love would conquer all. I remembered when I was in the same situation, trying to be hard-hitting for my own sake even though deep within, the twinge was too much to endure and swallow. Fragment by fragment, both quixotic and appalling memories of this Guy (lets just hide him by the pseudo name John), my ex-partner, twirled into me. It was the summer of 2001.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must confess it was a fast-paced relationship. We met through a common friend. We exchanged numbers. He called me up the night after. I drove to his place. We had fried chicken and pizzas for dinner. We kissed. We slept together. The next day, we were officially a couple. It was like a horse race. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Mikee&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Cojuangco&lt;/span&gt; can make a run for her money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John's condominium unit in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Makati&lt;/span&gt; became my second asylum. Since it was a summer and I was about to be part of the working class of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;professionals&lt;/span&gt; back then, I got to spend myriad hours with him since his work in one of the premiere makers of succulent and vigorous pineapple products both in the Philippines and abroad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t really a tedious and demanding one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oftentimes he would wake me up after a strenuous night just to ask me to properly tuck his long sleeves in his trousers. And since I am not the type of a human being that can suitably get back to slumber after being disturbed, I would sometimes make his coffee, work on his laundry, organize his much disorganized closet, or at times cook for him the dishes I learned from taking basic culinary arts when I was still in high school. In return, I would criticize his indolence when it comes to doing household chores. Nevertheless I can’t blame a guy who grew up with a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;yaya&lt;/span&gt; until the age of 13 and a person extremely allergic to detergent soap. But then again, I never felt I was domesticated, even a bit, for I cherished how he actually appreciated my simple efforts to become a good partner to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other side, I also did appreciate his very own way of showing me his passion. He several times drove me to fancy dinners that there were occurrences that I silently grumble to him about the price of each plate, but money never really became a large deal for him. Also, he gave me dozens of stuff toys that we each named after our childhood sweethearts . He even knew the birthday of my mom and my sister until this year, he greeted her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is a perfect guy and we were a perfect couple..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever we were free, we do movie marathons. He told me that he was crazy about Julia Roberts. He was so engrossed that within the span of our relationship, we watched Pretty Woman for eight times. John had already mastered some of the movie’s lengthy lines delivered by both Julia and Richard &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Gere&lt;/span&gt;. One time while watching the mentioned film, he recalled that the first time he watched the movie was way back mid 1995 in Quad together with his ex-girlfriend in high school. I simply ignored his recollection of it and instead thought that John was just really a huge aficionado of the physically big-mouthed yet competent Hollywood actress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of competition, John and I battled things a lot. I would never forget our encounters over play station. We even considered having eating contests and the one who finished last takes care of the mucky dishes. John and I were so tough and so competitive that in some instances, even the smallest sparks lead to destructive forest fires just like what we see on the Discovery Channel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Sandra Bullock became the Ms. Congeniality, Chris was the Mr. Congeniality and his portrayal of the role would definitely hand him a Golden Globe nomination. He was extraordinarily congenial that he flirted with different guys and went home with the “others” when I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t around. I knew that awful truth when I got to read from his mobile phone’s inbox a message from another person, thanking John for a wonderful and amazingly erotic night at his house and he even asked my John when would be the next saga. I retained my forbearing stance and calmly asked him about the guy. “It was just sex. I’m sorry,” he said upon realizing that I had discovered his duplicity. With those words of admittance, I just considered it a removed pebble that got inside my loafers. Then came twice. And thrice. I tried to keep my temperance. “I won’t care if other people would get a taste of John as long as I know for a fact that his heart is still mine,” I firmly told myself. On that particular moment, I knew I was in love. Unfortunately, it was also the similar moment when John lost his love for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judgment day came. John called me and he asked if we can talk. In his unusual sinister tone, I felt a sudden rush that pulsated all over my system. Still, I overcame the uneasiness I have had inside and after a few seconds I agreed to talk with him. Blah…blah…blah…and he finally said, “It was not you. It was me.” John wanted me to react. But I decided to ask or retort no more. I dropped the game, I gave up the competition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few days of hearing John's farewell antics and eventually getting separated with him, nobody even had an inch of clue of how much pain I went through. I still loved John so much that I endured dialing his number even though he kept ignoring my calls. I still loved John so much that I would send messages to him, telling him how much I missed our time and how much I longed for everything even though I got no reply from him, even though I would start feeling tiny pains in my thumb. I still loved him so much that I incessantly left messages to his answering machine even though I knew he was home and just purely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t want to talk with me. I loved him so much that I almost lost my sanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the wound was still fresh, I decided not to live in the past. Yes there were memories that I just wanted to linger forever, but sometimes some memories just don’t. It was not really me. It was not really my fault. Sometimes, it was really just how life went for me. After some sighs and sobs, there were lessons learned that helped me continue my life. The “it-was-not-you-it-was-me phenomenon” soon became over.&lt;br /&gt;Its was many years years ago, I was crying loudly while relentlessly drinking a bottle of draft beer and continuously puffing my cigar. That was the only night Miles saw me lost myself. She can’t blame me. I just fell in love…truthfully and faithfully… without conditions… one hundred and one percent, if it was possible…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;...then come 2005 when I met Eric...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-3223789900975313685?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/3223789900975313685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=3223789900975313685&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/3223789900975313685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/3223789900975313685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/04/amidst-smoke-and-booz-circa-2001.html' title='Amidst the Smoke and Booz (Circa 2001)'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-5334373993926126422</id><published>2008-04-11T02:06:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T02:58:54.948+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Being Featured in a Gay Site!</title><content type='html'>I am truly honored to be featured at http://www.pinoygayblogs.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sincerest thanks to all my readers and supporters! My blog is just a shout out of my personal thoughts and experiences in the "savage garden" called life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blue Unicorn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2&gt;      &lt;a class="post-title" href="http://pinoygayblogs.com/2008/04/06/the-blue-unicorn-journals/" rel="bookmark" title="Permanent Link to The Blue Unicorn Journals"&gt;       The Blue Unicorn Journals     &lt;/a&gt;     &lt;/h2&gt;      &lt;!-- The article content --&gt;           &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://pinoygayblogs.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/04/urnexttopmodel-002.jpg" alt="urnexttopmodel-002.jpg" align="left" /&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.blueunicorn.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Blue Unicorn&lt;/a&gt;, magical with his pen, lifts the following from his diary circa 2005. I’m featuring it here to honor his touching, heart-wrenching writing. Keep on writing, our magical Unicorn, keep on shining as you are indeed a twinkling glitter in the the Pinoy Blogosphere. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;center&gt;* * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;( As seen as PinoyGayBlogs.com)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-5334373993926126422?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/5334373993926126422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=5334373993926126422&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/5334373993926126422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/5334373993926126422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/04/being-featured-in-gay-site.html' title='Being Featured in a Gay Site!'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-9198478151955626794</id><published>2008-04-10T04:00:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T04:35:03.330+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Closed Doors/Open Closets (Queer Friends)'/><title type='text'>All of US are WHORES (unfinished)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;" All of US are born whores... it's just that some of us are lucky enough to get PAID for being one.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These were the exact words that I've heard from a very close friend of mine. Reginald (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not his real name&lt;/span&gt;) was one of those very few people I like to be associated with and I was fortunate enough to somehow mentor him in his budding career in human resources. He has this aura of being a "boy next door" type of guy, a true blue gentleman who every single gay guy in my queer group of friends dreams to introduce to their family and friends. Reginald has all the credentials of a seemingly perfect mate - good genes which gave him well defined and  gorgeous looks , a well known family respected in society circles,  and a child-like personality that endears him to all. But after the devastating break-up he just had a few weeks ago with his &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ex&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;boyfriend&lt;/span&gt;  Vince, he started to think and act "differently".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was almost midnight when he called me up in my mobile phone to ask if I have anything to do that time. Since it was a weekend and I was just bumming around in my condo and trying my best to get some sleep but really hoping I was somewhere else, so without hesitation I agreed to meet him and try to make the rest of the night a "meaningful one".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reminded him that I was not in the mood to spend the rest of the night in Malate with the rest the metropolis queer crowd. I had enough of that life. I've spent a lion share of my time there since the late 90's and I have already acquired that "been there - done that" attitude. Knowing that Reginald is aware that I no longer have a thrill to party in gay street, he promised me a different escapade in a "secret" place which according to him was his most recent discovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I live in the Ortigas Business District and he lives in Alabang, we agreed to meet in Greenbelt Makati in one of our usual hang-out  places.  It took me less than an hour to prepare and to drive my sexy ass from Ortigas CBD  to Makati.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-9198478151955626794?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/9198478151955626794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=9198478151955626794&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/9198478151955626794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/9198478151955626794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/04/all-of-us-are-whores-unfinished.html' title='All of US are WHORES (unfinished)'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30349090.post-4535030115814602391</id><published>2008-04-04T03:54:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T03:56:24.106+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Brothers Youtube Videos</title><content type='html'>Hi guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to promote my brothers youtube videos hope you watch him!He is such a GREAT artist!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/user/blacknurse3304&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-4535030115814602391?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/4535030115814602391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=4535030115814602391&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/4535030115814602391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/4535030115814602391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-brothers-youtube-videos.html' title='My Brothers Youtube Videos'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-555524158530804118</id><published>2008-04-04T02:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T03:00:18.963+08:00</updated><title type='text'>From the mouth of a Prima Donna Child</title><content type='html'>"I never gave anyone a reason to hate me... they just create their own little drama of pure insecurity..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-555524158530804118?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/555524158530804118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=555524158530804118&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/555524158530804118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/555524158530804118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/04/from-mouth-of-prima-donna-child.html' title='From the mouth of a Prima Donna Child'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-1603580899288063060</id><published>2008-04-04T02:50:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T01:10:03.749+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days of Childhood (Unfinished)</title><content type='html'>" As I grow old, my realization about life became deeper.. problems get bigger, situations becomes more complicated and I know that your just like me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we wish we could go back...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the time when the only &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;MAN&lt;/span&gt; in our life was Dad...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our only &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BESTFRIEND&lt;/span&gt; was Mom...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And whatever &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;pain&lt;/span&gt; we feel could be healed by just a band-aid and a lollipop!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-1603580899288063060?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/1603580899288063060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=1603580899288063060&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/1603580899288063060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/1603580899288063060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/04/days-of-childhood-unfinished.html' title='The Days of Childhood (Unfinished)'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-3290741996402741172</id><published>2008-03-25T07:26:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T07:28:56.758+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitiled Thought</title><content type='html'>" Sometimes you need to be deaf for the sake of somebody... You need to be insensitive to lessen the pain... You need to smile for strength of others and sometimes...You just need to STOP because you're tired of everything.."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-3290741996402741172?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/3290741996402741172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=3290741996402741172&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/3290741996402741172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/3290741996402741172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/03/untitiled-thought.html' title='Untitiled Thought'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-667300485770774300</id><published>2008-03-21T23:10:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T00:53:56.697+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The guy who owns the shoe tag  "beyond perfect"</title><content type='html'>"Just because you cant say something out loud doesn't mean you don't want to say it. In fact, you really want to but consequences can be damning and so, even if you desperately want to tell someone something, you opt to just keep it to yourself... besides, who said you can't love someone without having to tell them that you do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alot of people has been in this situation one time or another, when after living an almost perfect life with someone who showers you with every known expression of love and care then suddenly you meet a another person who  would fit a shoes tag as " beyond perfect"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This new guy who would ignite every bit of passion within you that you thought all along was exhausted long ago...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-667300485770774300?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/667300485770774300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=667300485770774300&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/667300485770774300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/667300485770774300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/03/guy-who-owns-shoe-tag-as-beyond-perfect.html' title='The guy who owns the shoe tag  &quot;beyond perfect&quot;'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-988130003382126292</id><published>2008-03-21T00:13:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T00:13:36.414+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A SAD STORY (Circa 2005)</title><content type='html'>From the pages of my diary... &lt;div class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;div class="entry-body"&gt;    &lt;p&gt;(It was about 6 months...6 months which felt like an eternity that I've spent with this guy...6 months of pure joy.... we never had any commitments, we were just each others emotional pillow, each others sexual pill...&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But those moments abruptly stopped dead one day. And another day. And another day. i tried calling his cellular phone, but my call was rejected. He knew I tried calling. I had hoped for a follow up. But days passed. Weeks passed. A month passed. He just disappeared. Nothing. I don't know if it was pride or self-preservation that kept me from bugging him. Which up to now, I know was the best thing I did. But my heart, waited. And waited. Like a forlorn lover. It had robbed me my heart. Until I didn't want to use it anymore. My days went by without any emotions. Parang robbot ba. Kase if I start feeling anything, kahit awa sa officemate ko. I'd just feel pain. Pain together with a picture of his face, forever imprinted on my mind. I would always look at a black car hoping it was him. Every car park. Every road. My heart was mourning for the loss. It was like losing someone in the war, not knowing if he's alive or not. What happened. And they are all bottled inside this tortured heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day after three months. I saw him sa Alabang Town Center. Inside Tequila Joe's. The world stopped and all the pain that I had kept inside wanted to burst and bleed inside the restaurant. I was with a group of straight friends. He looked at me across the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Friday's na lang tayo gusto nyo?" i asked my friends. Di ko kaya. Mahal dito, sabi ko. Kunwari tawa pa kame ng tawa, just to hide the thousand knifes pinned right through and through me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cge tingnan natin." agreed a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Friday's and everything went silent. Wala akong naririnig but my own pain inside. Pain of seeing him again. I had not admitted that I truly loved him before he had left, but the moment I knew that i had lost him. I knew. I loved him so much, even if i had stopped myself from doing so. The sight of him was such a shock, like a knife slicing through my ribs, into my the center of my heart. May family siya. He's got a a kid who's like five years old. And an infant na karga ng wife niya. I wanted to go home and weep. Not for finding out that he's married. But the pain of how easy it was for him to just leave and move on. I am a decent person. What we had was six months. There had been no commitment, but still, sabi nga ni Cameron Diaz sa Vanilla Sky, sleeping with someone gives an unspoken commitment, much more if it dragged for half a year. I knew the risks of heartbreak and loss. But a deliberate walking out without a word. It's like playing with someone else's feelings. I need not say it, but he owed something to me. Explanation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tol, me tumatawag sayo." sabi ni Jeric, friend ko, jolting me out of my reverie. He pointed out to a man outside Friday's. He looked great as ever. I told myself, i am a mature person. I must handle this, like the person i perceived and prepared myself to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"UUYY!!!! musta!!!" masayang bati ko ke Eric. "Nawala ka ah. Balita?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked me if we can talk sa malapit sa parking. So we did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kita nga kita kanina. Wife mo ba yon?" kunwari very nonchalant ako.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Darwin, stop it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He called me by that name. And stop I did. I knew if I stopped, the pain will replace it. And pain dwelled for the most painful moment. "Ok, Eric, what did you want to say..." serious na ko. Nakatingin ako sa kanya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Musta ka na." tanong lang ni niya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you think?" I paused. "Ineexpect mo ba na kulitin kita? Sorry. You left without a word. You didn't give me that much decency. And the last thing I want to give you now is the luxury of knowing how much you've hurt me. Because you did. And that's the end of it. But you know what, if you're talking to me just to assuage your conscience and your guilt, sorry but you'll have to do that on your own. I can't stay long, but I'm thankful for this opportunity coz somehow I can close my book and move on."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the most painful point. Walking away. With my heart numb. Yet i knew that time, had i felt anything i'd have broken down to that little child I really was when it came to the game of love and cry and cry and cry. I drove and drove that night, left my friends with a plausible excuse. I did a lot of soul-searching. Not self-pity. But in my time alone, i set the floodgates free and let all my tears flow...flow till there was no more. Till I was tired of crying. Crying not for a loss. But crying just to let pent up emotions free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night I went home. Everyone was asleep. I changed. I went to my parents' room, snuggled up with my Mom and my Dad. And slept soundly for the first time in a long while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE END&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;       &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-988130003382126292?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/988130003382126292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=988130003382126292&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/988130003382126292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/988130003382126292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/03/sad-story-circa-2005.html' title='A SAD STORY (Circa 2005)'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30349090.post-2511948653288802830</id><published>2008-03-21T00:07:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T05:48:37.452+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Im BACK !!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_j2JFe7KZq-8/R-QtCyb7xHI/AAAAAAAAABg/urSvZb-wEhs/s1600-h/blue+unicorn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_j2JFe7KZq-8/R-QtCyb7xHI/AAAAAAAAABg/urSvZb-wEhs/s320/blue+unicorn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180314997304837234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all of the avid readers of my blogs - my friends both here and abroad I would like to inform all of you that the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BLUE UNICORN &lt;/span&gt;is back in BLOGSPOT! I miss updating this journal and I promise to post here my recent blogs that i have in my friendster account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I SO MISS blogging!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-2511948653288802830?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/2511948653288802830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=2511948653288802830&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/2511948653288802830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/2511948653288802830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2008/03/im-back.html' title='Im BACK !!!!'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_j2JFe7KZq-8/R-QtCyb7xHI/AAAAAAAAABg/urSvZb-wEhs/s72-c/blue+unicorn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30349090.post-115605950865805163</id><published>2006-08-20T15:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-20T15:38:28.666+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Long Journey to LOVE!</title><content type='html'>I thought that my life would remain as simple as an empty shell.. i thought that everything's gonna be boring.. i thought life means problems and hurts and pains and tears and goodbyes. I was never happy.. yeah I did fell inlove with a couple of men before. but all of 'em just broke my heart .. even my bestfriend did when we tried to make our relationship deeper. It was really painful and that pain made me senseless.. i got tired of gettin' hurt.. so naive.. then i started to fail,.. i even became miserable and drowned into the tears that i shed. The faces of those men who hurt me kept on flashing in my dumbest dreams... the good and the bad memories flew everywhere with me. I almost died out of frustration and depression.. I tries my best to keep myself busy by focusing on my family, professional career and my spiritual growth... I locked myself up in my own world and shun any sorts of social activity that would remind me of my past ... Yes, I felt relieved (somehow) and I moved on (somehow).. but my whole being does not only survive with spiritual, social, and intellectual things... I am a real human being... A BEAUTIFUL, SMART and LOVING person who still needs to fall inlove and need to be loved.. Yes, my life before was full of EMPTINESS.. that WAS emptiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i woke up one day, falling inlove again, with a very SPECIAL man.. Tha very first man that I felt EXACT CONTENTMENT. No doubt! I've been inlove but I never felt this security before. .. He is an ANGEL - my own ANGEL.. I thought that he is an impossible man but I appreciated more the challenge of getting involved and falling inlove with a man that you never dreamed about. .. a total opposite of those that i loved before.. he is not like any typical boyfriend that will treat their guy like prince. He treats me like a bestfriend.. he treats me like he has nothing but me.. he never makes me feel that my sacrifices would be in vain. He makes me feel important. He does not dream about me but dreams with me.. He never becomes untrue to me. He always shows the real him. No reservations.. He gradually proves that he's responsible and worth loving for. He calls me BABY and I call him HONEY and it sounds really sweet when he utters my name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There he was my REAL Boyfriend. I really feel the tears now in my eyes.. Thank God I really am happy now.. there really is a rainbow after the rain. I aint saying that our relationship is perfect,, but for me,, this is true happiness,, i feel no doubt.. no hesitations,, no uncertainties.. I am sure that given the chance I will marry this guy next year. I will be the his partner in life, have our own children and  will grow old with Him.. I love you Alvin .. the only man outta my expectations - my love ...my ANGEL!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115605950865805163?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115605950865805163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115605950865805163&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115605950865805163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115605950865805163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/08/long-journey-to-love.html' title='A Long Journey to LOVE!'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115401711703810842</id><published>2006-07-28T00:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-28T00:18:37.050+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a Gay Guy!</title><content type='html'>It’s about waking up the next Sunday  morning with a bad hangover after partying out all night in the different bars in Malate and being hit by a very familiar feeling that you went overboard again last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about a one-night stand with a guy you met at a party, sneaking out of his room before he wakes, checking your things if something was missing, looking for his phone and purposely deleting your number from his phonebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about meeting a guy at a bar and offering him a ride home. It's about asking him if he wanted to go someplace private so you can talk--when both of you are aware that you have a different "talk" in mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about meeting your ex again after quite some time and noting how much better he looks now than he did before. It's about pushing the right buttons for him to give in. And finding yourself in bed with him without strings attached, all the while being grateful to your friend who told you its good not to burn your bridges with your exes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about seeing another guy and finding ways for you to meet him. With pickup lines being overused, you have a better chance of getting his number by having your best gimik bud go over and ask him politely if he can have his friend over there introduced to him. It's about texting with him the whole day, getting to know him, showing that you have a genuine interest in him, sharing sweet nothings on the phone and forwarding him cheesy quotes that work almost all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about having your friend, your partner-in-crime, the Wondergirl/Robin to your Wonder woman/Batman--or whatever you want to call him--validate to him all your pledges of devotion and loyalty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about perfecting the art of lying. Telling your boyfriend it was just you and the boys last night--go ask wondergirl/Robin. And not bothering to tell Wondergirl/Robin what to say because he already knows the routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about keeping your boyfriend happy. Giving him gifts and surprises so he won't suspect your wayward ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about not caring if your boyfriend broke up with you because he caught you cheating. There are other fish in the sea, you say. You're better off a free man, free to do anything you pleased without worrying about getting caught.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about asking another guy you just met out for a date. Convincing him that you're for real. Making him forget about the warnings his faggot friends gave about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about doing anything so you can bring him home tonight. And if everything else fails, it's always a good idea to have a plan B and even a plan C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about saying the L word without breaking eye contact. Making him believe that you really mean it and that you're starting to fall for him. That's plan B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s about showering him with roses and chocolates, love letters and all the works and going to his pad wearing your new red g-string. That’s Plan C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about thinking of ways to break up with him if he starts to get clingy. Thinking of the standard breakup lines and wondering if he'll buy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about rushing to your friend's boyfriend with a shoulder to cry on. Telling him that everything's gonna work out fine. Comforting him one minute, and then fucking him the next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about going out with your friends and partying all night. Drinking till dawn and playing around with boy toys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about waking up in the morning with a bad case of hangover and a very familiar feeling that you went overboard again last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deja vu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugly cycle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really is an ugly cycle. After years of a life like this, you begin to ask yourself if there is more to life than drinking all night and finding someone to hook up with. And in the morning when you wake up, no matter how much you soap yourself, you still have this uneasy feeling that you're still dirty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your friend has found a girl that he's serious about. When you go out with your friends, you find him taking a raincheck because he has to spend time with his girl. You and your friends wonder what has gotten into him. You even wonder if he's lost his mind. Why the HELL is he going straight! How can he even think about trading this kind of life? There's nothing better than a gay bachelor's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all fun and games the first few years. But after a while, you look at yourself in the mirror and find the traces of abuse you did to yourself. And if you don't change your ways, you fear that maybe someday you'll find yourself alone and lonely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after all the years of booze and boys you can finally sum up your life in one word--empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's not good to spend your life that way. Maybe your friend hasn't lost his mind, after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you need is to find someone who can make you look forward to another day. Someone who, when you think about her, never fails to put a smile on your face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone who makes you wants to be a better man not a just another “Queen”--to steal a line from Mr. Jack Nicholson:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone who fills that emptiness in you, making you complete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before, when you used to wake up in the morning and find somebody in your arms, your first thought was how you could get rid of him without hurting his feelings. But now, what you need is a girl who makes you want to think of reasons and ways to let her stay in your arms. A girl who would convert you back to being straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because when she's right there beside you, it is as if everything's okay. That nothing else matters but you and her. No more wild sorties, no more orgies, no more rave parties, and yes No more wild sex with cute hunky gay guys and twinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You need somebody who makes you miss her so much that you buy a bottle of her perfume and spray it on your pillows so, when you go to bed at night, you can hug the pillow with her scent on it and wish that it was really her you were hugging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You need somebody who makes your heart skip a beat when she smiles at you. Who makes you feel so comfortable and safe that you pour out your heart to her, unburdening secrets that you've kept for a long time. And having her tell you that it's okay, you have a new slate now, that you can leave everything where it belongs, in the past, and concentrate on what lies ahead of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You need someone who makes you listen more to love songs on the radio. Someone whom you pray for at night before you sleep. Someone you wish you'd dream about, for even while you sleep, you still want to be with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone whom you can finally look in the eye, without all the guilt and deceit, and tell her you love her. And you get this mushy feeling inside that tells you it's true. You want to shout over the rooftops, you love her, and she loves you! There's no better feeling in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found my someone. I have found my all. I've been wanting to ask this for a long time now. And I think there's no better timing than now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am, down on one knee, asking you, my someone. Will you marry me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;( Just want you to know that this blog was inspired by a 2bU/YOU article title YOUNG CASANOVA from PDI. I re wrote it in a way base on what has happened in my own life!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115401711703810842?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115401711703810842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115401711703810842&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115401711703810842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115401711703810842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/07/confessions-of-gay-guy.html' title='Confessions of a Gay Guy!'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115350881392194543</id><published>2006-07-22T02:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-22T03:06:53.933+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SPELLS - My Fav from CHARMED ONES!</title><content type='html'>--- A Spell for Broken Hearted People ---&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Erase the pain of whom I left&lt;br /&gt;That I may love him I just met&lt;br /&gt;Bring balance back to our lives&lt;br /&gt;Letting go, we will survive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--- Letting Go of Lost Love ---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say this now to those who seek&lt;br /&gt;their hearts now mend, their minds be meek&lt;br /&gt;their lovelorn quest be concluded&lt;br /&gt;thier lovelives past, now be shrouded &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--- Finding a Perfect Mate! ---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i conjur thee&lt;br /&gt;i conjur thee&lt;br /&gt;i am the queen&lt;br /&gt;you are the bee&lt;br /&gt;as i desire&lt;br /&gt;so shall it be &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---  Love Spell -----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May peace and love&lt;br /&gt;From the moon above&lt;br /&gt;Flow through my heart&lt;br /&gt;On the wings of a dove&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115350881392194543?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115350881392194543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115350881392194543&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115350881392194543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115350881392194543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/07/spells-my-fav-from-charmed-ones.html' title='SPELLS - My Fav from CHARMED ONES!'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115291784895038179</id><published>2006-07-15T06:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-15T06:57:29.013+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Milk &amp; Cereal - Crazy Baby Aries and Baby Dino&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://youtube.com/v/_ranbQuiMOc"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://youtube.com/v/_ranbQuiMOc" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br&gt;Damn I love this video of them goofing around! It made my Bday complete!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115291784895038179?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115291784895038179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115291784895038179&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115291784895038179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115291784895038179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/07/milk-cereal-crazy-baby-aries-and-baby.html' title=''/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115265432955303103</id><published>2006-07-12T05:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-20T23:38:07.450+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And again over a cup of Cofee...</title><content type='html'>We spend a lifetime putting up walls. With every tremor, every earthquake, they grow taller, more impenetrable. Experience teaches us to be careful. Careful of people, of Trojan horses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With time we come to depend on these walls, rely on their protection. Until one day a boy walks by, touches the stone, the walls come tumbling down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Manila (Circa 2006)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So what makes you happy?" He asked over coffee.&lt;br /&gt;My eyes wide open. I look at him, confused, as though he'd just spoken in a foreign language. No one's ever asked me that before.&lt;br /&gt;"The smell of a new book," I tell him.&lt;br /&gt;He smiles, sips his coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at him, amazed at his last words, surprised by the fact that as inquisitive as I am, it's never occurred to me to ask anyone that simple question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't take my eyes off him. There's something about this Guy, something I've never seen before. I want to ask him so many things but I don't. The walls, they won't let me. Instead I stare, get lost in my thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" He says.&lt;br /&gt;My mind's eye dissolves back into the present, to the boy in front of me, his almond hue eyes.&lt;br /&gt;"Huh?"&lt;br /&gt;"Where did you go just now?"&lt;br /&gt;"Nowhere," I say.&lt;br /&gt;"Liar."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met Ryce a week earlier at trip to Shangrila. Was there at the invitation of my friend Dan to see a movie of all things, a screening of Lake House.&lt;br /&gt;"Everyone is crazy about this movie " he said. "You'll like it."&lt;br /&gt;"Is it a gay thing?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;"Nope. It's an romance flick"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan and I arrived at the Shangrila 8:00 P.M. The place was already packed with people lining up to buy tickets. There was something exciting about the whole thing and strangely beautiful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We found a spot, tried our best to be in our most comfy position, waited for the movie to start. That's when I noticed him. He was standing in line for the bathroom not more that a few feet away. Tall, broad shoulders, dark hair, and those eyes, as almond hue as spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll be right back," I told Dan as I made my way over carefully, quickly, an animal after its prey. Was hoping to strike up a conversation, find out who this guy was. But by the time I got in line three people had managed to squeeze in before me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stood there, looking at him over the heads of unsuspecting strangers, waiting for the right moment, the right words. Ten, 15, 20 minutes, eternity. Then, just as I was about to say something, Dan showed up. Tipsy, flamboyant, loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Whatcha doin' Wenz?"&lt;br /&gt;"Waiting for the bathroom."&lt;br /&gt;"Don't take too long, the movie's about to start." he said then curtsied off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The almond-eyed boy in front of me gives me a look. I know what he's thinking.&lt;br /&gt;"Who was that?" He finally asked. Ice, broken.&lt;br /&gt;"That's my friend," I said. "My very platonic drunken friend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He smiles. Dimples. My weakness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, his turn comes up for one of the porta potties. But instead of moving forward, he stops, looks at me.&lt;br /&gt;"Do you need to go?" He asks.&lt;br /&gt;"Huh?"&lt;br /&gt;"To the bathroom."&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," I lie.&lt;br /&gt;"Because I don't. I'll wait for you here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bold. Fearless. His cards, in plain view. He's been waiting for me this whole time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm Ryce by the way."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What took you so long?" Came the question from the other end of line.&lt;br /&gt;"What?"&lt;br /&gt;"To call."&lt;br /&gt;Wasn't ready for that question, that kind of forwardness.&lt;br /&gt;"I said I'd call in the morning. It's 11:30," I say.&lt;br /&gt;"Manila Boy, pussies."&lt;br /&gt;"Didn't want to seem too eager," I finally tell him. It's as much as I'm willing to admit.&lt;br /&gt;He laughs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I invited him to go to a drink at my friend's house that night. Ryce showed up on time, wearing a lime almond t-shirt, chewing gum.&lt;br /&gt;"Impressive," I tell him.&lt;br /&gt;"What?"&lt;br /&gt;"Your gum. It matches your shirt," I tease him, "brings out the color in your eyes."&lt;br /&gt;He pulls it out, looks at it. I can tell he's embarrassed by the coincidence.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yeah, that," he says. "I like to color-coordinate. Why? Too much?"&lt;br /&gt;He's funny. I like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends like him too, I can tell. They're flirting with him, shamelessly, even those with boyfriends. One goes as far as giving him a quick rub of the shoulders. I like that's he's the center of attention. I like that at the end of the night, I'm the one who gets to take him home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I step back, watch him interact with the crowd. He's surrounded by a group of men who are clinging to his every word. Now and then he looks up at me, smiles, his eyes saying, "Don’t fret, I'm all yours."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point he grabs me, takes me aside. "I like you," he says, then pauses, "something about you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the evening wraps up, we say goodbye to my friends, head over to his apartment. We lay down on his bed, fully clothed. The tension has been building up for two days, but he's in no rush. He takes his time with me, exploring every inch, as if not to offend any particular part of my body. There's tenderness in his touch, in his eyes. Not something you'd expect from a six-foot-two guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're beautiful," he says, his hand on my chest. It doesn't sound forced or corny. I want to reciprocate but I don't. It's those gates, my fears, the walls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have sex. Incredible, passionate, mind-blowing. The kind that ends with two people staring at the ceiling in a haze, catching their breaths. Damp sheets, sweaty faces, the green in his eyes, a hundred times greener. This is my favorite moment, right before you fall asleep. Right before everything goes quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning we get dressed, head to Figaro. As I sit there sipping my coffee, a question, "So what makes you happy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incredibly simple, simply incredible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to let him in, but I can't. Wall's too high. Instead I wonder if he'd still be that honest, that open if we shared the same zip code.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night I went back Makati. To my life, my job, my world. I notice I'm smiling more. But even though I like this guy and the effect he's had on my mood, I know how it goes. guy goes on vacation, guy meets boy, guy sleeps with guy, guy goes home.guy gets e-mails every once in a while. guy moves on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are 3,000 reasons not to get emotional. And so I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryce follows the script at first.&lt;br /&gt;"I miss you," he messages, three exclamation marks, one smiley face.&lt;br /&gt;"You do?"&lt;br /&gt;"Wish you were here," he continues.&lt;br /&gt;"Likewise."&lt;br /&gt;"Thinking of you," texts the boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, just as I think it's about to fade, move into its rightful place in the past, a question. This one does more than just confuse me, it takes my breath away.&lt;br /&gt;"Is there a reason why you're being so reserved?" he asks. "I don't want to lose interest if there's interest to be had."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just like that, they fall. The walls, they come crumbling, fast, furiously. I realize that although this guy may not be the one, he comes close. And that alone gives me hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115265432955303103?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115265432955303103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115265432955303103&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115265432955303103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115265432955303103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/07/and-again-over-cup-of-cofee.html' title='And again over a cup of Cofee...'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30349090.post-115265244795078696</id><published>2006-07-12T05:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T05:18:56.356+08:00</updated><title type='text'>News Flash! - Go Ahead Spank Me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5950/3253/1600/Darwin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5950/3253/320/Darwin.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my readers. Some of you have been reading since i started this blog, and some have just started. I know many of you have been worried these past few weeks because ive been posting quite sad and depressive posts. The reasons for those posts is nothing more than stress, and maybe a little bit of a relapse into a depression. Its ok though, because I am going to be taking control of my life in like 2 weeks. I told them i wanted to go back to communicate with my Ex's in Baguio and i have been informed by my closest friends that i will be cut off and disowned if i try it. They don't know im still really going to do it, which is why i am under so much stress I am going to be telling them at the end of this week that I am really going back, I already have my plane ticket etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it is very sweet of you all to offer to spank me, everyone knows i need it! But here is something i havent shared yet. In Baguio there is someone. I shall call him...Butthead. Hehehe. So far he seems to get me and my moods, and really wants to spank me...and other things. Anyway I shall keep you all posted!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115265244795078696?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115265244795078696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115265244795078696&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115265244795078696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115265244795078696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/07/news-flash-go-ahead-spank-me.html' title='News Flash! - Go Ahead Spank Me!'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115230787470812757</id><published>2006-07-08T05:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-08T05:42:41.163+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;The Way You Look At Me&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://youtube.com/v/ZRRtFXsZigM"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://youtube.com/v/ZRRtFXsZigM" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br&gt;Those who touched my body failed to arouse my heart and those who aroused my body failed to touch my heart....Can you make me melt like hot fudge on a sundae? - Darwin (July 2006)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115230787470812757?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115230787470812757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115230787470812757&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115230787470812757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115230787470812757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/07/way-you-look-at-me-those-who-touched.html' title=''/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115230409222836614</id><published>2006-07-08T04:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-10T03:54:50.026+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Milkshake Dance By My bud Ethan&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://youtube.com/v/su_0r579jtk"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://youtube.com/v/su_0r579jtk" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn! This guy bud of mine knows how to shake his booty! I Loved him becaus of this video!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115230409222836614?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115230409222836614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115230409222836614&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115230409222836614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115230409222836614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/07/milkshake-dance-by-my-bud-ethan-damn.html' title=''/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115229819629907939</id><published>2006-07-08T02:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-08T05:45:19.100+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wingless Angel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5950/3253/1600/Angel%20in%20Red%20Light.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5950/3253/320/Angel%20in%20Red%20Light.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same person who called me an angel has clipped my wings, had me fallin', but never caught me in his arms - Darwin (July 2006)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115229819629907939?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115229819629907939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115229819629907939&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115229819629907939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115229819629907939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/07/wingless-angel.html' title='Wingless Angel'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115195963731794244</id><published>2006-07-04T04:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T04:47:17.320+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Superman Returns - FULL TRAILER&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://youtube.com/v/8JP62hnZUqU"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://youtube.com/v/8JP62hnZUqU" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br&gt;I LOVE SUPERMAN!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115195963731794244?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115195963731794244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115195963731794244&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115195963731794244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115195963731794244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/07/superman-returns-full-trailer-i-love.html' title=''/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115195870732246018</id><published>2006-07-04T04:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T04:31:47.326+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Superman Returns - Will You COME with ME?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://youtube.com/v/rTHMlreg6FM"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://youtube.com/v/rTHMlreg6FM" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me and my GUY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115195870732246018?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115195870732246018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115195870732246018&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115195870732246018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115195870732246018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/07/superman-returns-will-you-come-with-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115195577646188529</id><published>2006-07-04T03:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T03:42:56.470+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The BLUE UNICORN SPEAKS : Angels in Life!</title><content type='html'>God created laws by which man is expected to live; He then gave humanity ‘free will’ to choose to use these spiritual laws or not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Law of Opposites man is given knowledge to help him make valid decisions concerning what is spiritual. If man chooses to use crutches given to humanity during centuries on the earth, then he is not accepting personal responsibility. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If man sees areas in his own life, which need changing, where healing body, mind or spirit should be taking place and does nothing, then he is not using all the resources at his disposal. Or if he chooses to think that Karma is the answer to what is taking place, again he is not looking within his own life for some small change that could give him better mental outlook or a healthier body and spiritual upliftment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all these things, each person has challenges and opportunities presented to him. How he handles the challenges and opportunities is considered ‘using his free will’. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the creation of law, there is love and there is also hate, there is misery and there is also joy, there is want, but there is also plenty. Man’s free will is what he does with these circumstances – these opportunities – these challenges. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With his own resources for aid, resources for aiding himself as well as aiding others and also taking into consideration what he does with his resources, is man’s own personal responsibility. Each person has opportunities open to his or her own understanding because there are always opportunities for growth, advancement and progress in spiritual enlightenment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continue your spiritual path of light and understanding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have met countless "Angels" in my journies in this "savage garden" of mine called LIFE , and I am truly greatful knowing that our Divine Father always send HIS angels to us to light and gaurd our way...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115195577646188529?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115195577646188529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115195577646188529&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115195577646188529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115195577646188529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/07/blue-unicorn-speaks-angels-in-life.html' title='The BLUE UNICORN SPEAKS : Angels in Life!'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115185459937780787</id><published>2006-07-02T23:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-02T23:36:39.396+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SuperMan Returns - My Blah about it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5950/3253/1600/Brandon%20Routh%20-%20Superman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5950/3253/320/Brandon%20Routh%20-%20Superman.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Superman Returns isn’t about a savior returning to Earth to protect us from evil (sound familiar?). No, this Superman film has as much to do with romance and self-discovery as it does with combating evil. There’s a lot of heart and soul in the story of Superman Returns, and the hero feels real pain and isolation in being the only one of his kind in existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And YES - Brandon Routh is SO DAMN HOT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115185459937780787?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115185459937780787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115185459937780787&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115185459937780787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115185459937780787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/07/superman-returns-my-blah-about-it.html' title='SuperMan Returns - My Blah about it!'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115151780861073471</id><published>2006-06-29T01:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-29T02:24:11.486+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Another Shout about Lost Love...</title><content type='html'>it's been a long year.a year of lost causes and great expectations, a year of homesickness and complicated relationships. a whole year spent in a phonebox shouting out love down a bad line. twelve months of wishing and wanting and having to do without the simple stuff like mum's toasted bread and dad's rather twisted, but completely practical logic.and, it's been a year without you. a year (and a half) since i stopped letting you walk all over me because that look in your eyes would always, always undo me. and it'd always end the same- with promises that meant nothing to you and the world to me. little things i'd never even see or realised and i'd always thought i was always one up on others. i'm assaulted by those yesterdays, sometimes. walking down Ayala Avenue or even at Nakpil Rd.  and there's a flash of brown arms and legs, pale wrists and chocolate almond eyes. i have to shake myself because, well because. it's pointless berating myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate having to look through my shoeboxes because there's always, always something about you. an unfinished letter to you, 'dear-.' and i crumple it and chuck it in the bin. and this, from me- the person who never throws things away. i can't bring myself to throw out the snapple bottles yet. they're still there- at the back of my cupboard. my scrawled, 'april 2005. I Love you baby! .' a mocking reminder of who we used to be. i can't believe i never saw the signs. letters to my best friends,'dear- .i'm sorry about always going on about -, but you know what i get like. a terrier with a bone, i just don't let go. but, i'm starting to feel like i've done something wrong. he never writes, or rings me or messages even. i've asked what's wrong, but he hasn't replied yet.maybe i've done something and he's mad at me. do you think i should apologise? yeah, i think i will actually. but i can't think of anything. but i suppose i am rather blunt and perhaps i said or did something. i can be quite ...cruel that way?i'm sorry about unloading, as always. sometimes i think he can do better, i suppose my whining must get really annoying.anyhow, how's oliver...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'half my letters were always about you. always. there was no 'me', or 'i'. just a appendage to you. i was defined by you, as stupid as that is. and i spent nine of our ten months together fretting about not being good enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cried myself to sleep every day and i hated the city that kept me so, so far away from you.i rang you when my best friend left our city, and i cried down the phone and i'd never done that. i'd never cried so much before, and you were there for me and that was who i fell (a little bit) in love with. or so i believed.i don't like being wrong. but you were possibly, the biggest mistake of my mid twenty years. and i cringe at every memory and i wish i could take it all back. everything. all my wasted emotions and tears and anger and i wish, i just wish that none of this affected me still.i see the back of your head at a supermarket and i'm running through aisles trying to avoid you. i know it's you with that dark hair and those long legs and brown arms. i know that walk. i know that side tilt head thing you do. and i know your mum and your brother. i shouldn't be the one running scared. it should be you.but it isn't. like it wasn't you who said, 'enough'. just like it wasn't you who cared. and exactly how it wasn't you who wasn't good enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115151780861073471?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115151780861073471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115151780861073471&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115151780861073471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115151780861073471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/06/just-another-shout-about-lost-love.html' title='Just Another Shout about Lost Love...'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143707743749986</id><published>2006-06-28T08:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T03:37:57.443+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Love Letter to NO One...</title><content type='html'>So many nights, so many hours. Nights that lasted forever. Nights that tore into me and ripped out what little hope was left. I used to often sit alone on those nights pouring my heart out in a love letter to no one. Paragraph upon paragraph of useless words, tear stains on the paper, all in vain. Each letter was burnt and cast off to the winds. Perhaps off to find a hopeless dreamer such as myself. I’d dream what he’d look like, the way he’d smell. The sound of his voice, the feel of his hands. I’d write out the words I longed to say to anyone who was willing to hear them. Played out conversations in my head with a man who’d never love me. A man who wasn’t any more real than the hopes that kept me living. I believed in fairy tales. I thought that there was a person out there for everyone. The greedy, the poor, the overweight, the disabled, the gay, the snobby, the overly nice, even the “bad” people. I kept thinking that there was someone out there that was meant for me and all I had to do was find him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I grew older, the fairy tale faded away. Once upon a time became something I wanted to forget and happily ever after grew to be a myth. I have an uncle who’s never fallen in love, and has given up on even searching for it. Some people live their whole lives and never fall in love. I have to believe in love, whether I want to or not, because I lived it and I lost it. I even saw it in my grandparents eyes when my grandfather was in the hospital dying and my grandmother was sent to a nursing home. I’d never seen my grandfather cry before. He said he just misses her and wanted to be with her. They’ve been married sixty something years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There might just be a person out there made for everyone. And there might not be. With so many people in the world, how do you know you’ve found the right one? Attraction can be mistaken for love. It can also grow to love. Sometimes, there’s your soulmate and then there’s the person you’ll spend the rest of your life with. But what if you discover that the other half of your soul was the one you chose to be with? Aren’t you dying to find out? So many nights, so many hours. Nights that lasted forever. Nights that bore deep into my soul and brought out light I’ve never known existed. I sit wrapped in thoughts of you. No longer shall I write a love letter to no one. Tonight, I write a letter to someone. Paragraph upon paragraph of words which paint a portrait of a dozen fairy tales come true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143707743749986?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143707743749986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143707743749986&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143707743749986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143707743749986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/06/love-letter-to-no-one.html' title='A Love Letter to NO One...'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143742656109492</id><published>2006-06-28T03:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T03:43:46.563+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love and Chaos (Another Moment of Self Contemplation)</title><content type='html'>I keep going back to this ridiculous notion that people keep wanting to put forward to me (and perhaps that I keep going back to in my own conditioned response to reality) that you can somehow predict the outcome of love. That if you “choose” to love someone with (or without) certain characteristics, you can somehow be assured of safety. Yet all that I have experienced in my life proves the opposite. People are surprising…delightfully so. And anyway, that is the whole point of love, isn’t it? To reveal some hidden inner truth in another person that maybe no one else has ever been able to reveal. Certainly that is never predictable, and if it was, I wouldn’t want it. If I wanted a predictable high, I would just do a bunch of drugs. No. I love chaos, and love is chaos. Full on. Delicious. Chaos.&lt;br /&gt;Yum!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143742656109492?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143742656109492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143742656109492&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143742656109492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143742656109492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/06/love-and-chaos-another-moment-of-self.html' title='Love and Chaos (Another Moment of Self Contemplation)'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143647150935344</id><published>2006-06-28T03:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T03:27:51.510+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Et Al!</title><content type='html'>My friends are the most important people in the world to me -- I love my friends, I adore them, I would do anything in the world to contribute to their happiness. To be honest, I can be a lot more ardent about my friends than I sometimes am about my romantic relationships. According to a mindset that only recognizes couples and not-couples, that kind of affection makes no sense; it's the mindset that produces phrases like "just friends." I can't even comprehend "just" friends -- you can't get any closer to me than friendship. Who needs a boyfriend when you've got half a dozen real friends? Now, if one comes along, that's great; I'm not against the idea. But if he doesn't, my sense of self-worth remains intact. I am whole the way I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love it! And, yes...there's room for romantic entanglements at some point, but I really find myself wishing to avoid them entirely right now. Not out of fear, but out of...well...apathy. For awhile there, I was feeling like it would be really nice to find a friend to snuggle with at night, but now that it's SO FUCKING HOT outside, that desire is quickly dissipating, as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay! I want to write more about this! Surely there are more out there! Let's start a revolution! Let's redefine relationships!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143647150935344?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143647150935344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143647150935344&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143647150935344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143647150935344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/06/love-et-al.html' title='Love Et Al!'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143605894284318</id><published>2006-06-28T03:18:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T04:40:52.635+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Amidst The Smoke and Booz</title><content type='html'>I said nothing upon hearing Miles frantically professed how she still badly wanted Kaye back in her arms. I didnt even bother say any word of encouragement for her to at least manage to feel relieved and eventually function well once more. I did nothing. Not that I was droopy towards the episode. It was just because Miles - my best girl budd and steady emotional partner in life,love and crime,  unintentionally made me reminisce a vivid picture of what was it like to be left alone by someone who told you would stand by your side no matter what, someone who told you that love would conquer all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miles was crying loudly while relentlessly drinking a bottle of draft beer and continuously puffing her cigar. For almost five extensive years of solid and unadulterated friendship, that was the only night I saw her lost herself. I can’t blame her. Kaye, her girlfriend for over two years, apparently exchanged her for a japanese social nightbird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said nothing upon hearing Miles frantically professed how she still badly wanted Kaye back in her arms. I didn’t even bother say any word of encouragement for her to at least manage to feel relieved and eventually function well once more. I did nothing. Not that I was droopy towards the episode. It was just because Miles unintentionally made me reminisce a vivid picture of what was it like to be left alone by someone who told you would stand by your side no matter what, someone who told you that love would conquer all. I remembered when I was in the same situation, trying to be hard-hitting for my own sake even though deep within, the twinge was too much to endure and swallow. Fragment by fragment, both quixotic and appalling memories of this Guy (lets just hide him by the pseudo name John), my ex-partner, twirled into me. It was the summer of 2001.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must confess it was a fast-paced relationship. We met through a common friend. We exchanged numbers. He called me up the night after. I drove to his place. We had fried chicken and pizzas for dinner. We kissed. We slept together. The next day, we were officially a couple. It was like a horse race. Mikee Cojuangco can make a run for her money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John's condominium unit in Makati became my second asylum. Since it was a summer and I was about to be part of the working class of preoffesionals back then, I got to spend myriad hours with him since his work in one of the premiere makers of succulent and vigorous pineapple products both in the Philippines and abroad wasn’t really a tedious and demanding one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oftentimes he would wake me up after a strenuous night just to ask me to properly tuck his long sleeves in his trousers. And since I am not the type of a human being that can suitably get back to slumber after being disturbed, I would sometimes make his coffee, work on his laundry, organize his much disorganized closet, or at times cook for him the dishes I learned from taking basic culinary arts when I was still in high school. In return, I would criticize his indolence when it comes to doing household chores. Nevertheless I can’t blame a guy who grew up with a yaya until the age of 13 and a person extremely allergic to detergent soap. But then again, I never felt I was domesticated, even a bit, for I cherished how he actually appreciated my simple efforts to become a good partner to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other side, I also did appreciate his very own way of showing me his passion. He several times drove me to fancy dinners that there were occurrences that I silently grumble to him about the price of each plate, but money never really became a large deal for him. Also, he gave me dozens of  stuff toys that we each named after our childhood sweethearts  . He even knew the birthday of my mom and my sister until this year, he greeted her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is a perfect guy and we were a perfect couple..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever we were free, we do movie marathons. He told me that he was crazy about Julia Roberts. He was so engrossed that within the span of our relationship, we watched Pretty Woman for eight times. John had already mastered some of the movie’s lengthy lines delivered by both Julia and Richard Gere. One time while watching the mentioned film, he recalled that the first time he watched the movie was way back mid 1995 in Quad together with his ex-girlfriend in high school. I simply ignored his recollection of it and instead thought that John was just really a huge aficionado of the physically big-mouthed yet competent Hollywood actress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of competition, John and I battled things a lot.  I would never forget our encounters over play station. We even considered having eating contests and the one who finished last takes care of the mucky dishes. John and I were so tough and so competitive that in some instances, even the smallest sparks lead to destructive forest fires just like what we see on the Discovery Channel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Sandra Bullock became the Ms. Congeniality, Chris was the Mr. Congeniality and his portrayal of the role would definitely hand him a Golden Globe nomination. He was extraordinarily congenial that he flirted with different guys and went home with the “others” when I wasn’t around. I knew that awful truth when I got to read from his mobile phone’s inbox a message from another person, thanking John for a wonderful and amazingly erotic night at his house and he even asked my John when would be the next saga. I retained my forbearing stance and calmly asked him about the guy. “It was just sex. I’m sorry,” he said upon realizing that I had discovered his duplicity. With those words of admittance, I just considered it a removed pebble that got inside my loafers. Then came twice. And thrice. I tried to keep my temperance. “I won’t care if other people would get a taste of John as long as I know for a fact that his heart is still mine,” I firmly told myself. On that particular moment, I knew I was in love. Unfortunately, it was also the similar moment when John lost his love for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judgment day came. John called me and he asked if we can talk. In his unusual sinister tone, I felt a sudden rush that pulsated all over my system. Still, I overcame the uneasiness I have had inside and after a few seconds I agreed to talk with him. Blah…blah…blah…and he finally said, “It was not you. It was me.” John wanted me to react. But I decided to ask or retort no more. I dropped the game, I gave up the competition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few days of hearing John's farewell antics and eventually getting separated with him, nobody even had an inch of clue of how much pain I went through. I still loved John so much that I endured dialing his number even though he kept ignoring my calls. I still loved John so much that I would send messages to him, telling him how much I missed our time and how much I longed for everything even though I got no reply from him, even though I would start feeling tiny pains in my thumb. I still loved him so much that I incessantly left messages to his answering machine even though I knew he was home and just purely didn’t want to talk with me. I loved him so much that I almost lost my sanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the wound was still fresh, I decided not to live in the past. Yes there were memories that I just wanted to linger forever, but sometimes some memories just don’t. It was not really me. It was not really my fault. Sometimes, it was really just how life went for me. After some sighs and sobs, there were lessons learned that helped me continue my life. The “it-was-not-you-it-was-me phenomenon” soon became over.&lt;br /&gt;Its was almost 5 years years ago, I was crying loudly while relentlessly drinking a bottle of draft beer and continuously puffing my cigar. That was the only night Miles saw me lost myself. She can’t blame me. I just fell in love…truthfully and faithfully… without conditions… one hundred and one percent, if it was possible…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143605894284318?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143605894284318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143605894284318&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143605894284318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143605894284318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/06/amidst-smoke-and-booz.html' title='Amidst The Smoke and Booz'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143551471589346</id><published>2006-06-28T03:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T03:11:54.716+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dont tell your Boyfriend About Me..</title><content type='html'>Don't tell your Boyfriend...about me..&lt;br /&gt;Don't tell me to stop crying, please just hold me while I do...Soothe me with your silence and just cradle me to you....Don't push me for my reasons or expect me to explainHow come I say I'm happy to be on my own again...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't tell your boyfriend about me 'cos your boyfriendwon't like boys like me You don't have to tell your boyfriend about meIf you just hold me, hold me, hold me....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143551471589346?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143551471589346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143551471589346&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143551471589346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143551471589346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/06/dont-tell-your-boyfriend-about-me.html' title='Dont tell your Boyfriend About Me..'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143512870042081</id><published>2006-06-28T03:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T03:05:28.700+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And again..Its All about YOU!</title><content type='html'>I've written a thousand letters, but none of them seemed good enough to give to you. It's sad I can could never find to words that would fully explain how I feel for you. You are so many things to me and yet you'll never know. You have been my greatest pseudo-lover and my best friend over the years. I've trusted you before I knew you.  Your smile says so many diffrent things at once.Plus you do some of the cutest things without realizing it, and when you do them you some how manage to steal my heart all over again....&lt;br /&gt;Thank you....you know who you are...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143512870042081?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143512870042081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143512870042081&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143512870042081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143512870042081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/06/and-againits-all-about-you.html' title='And again..Its All about YOU!'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143469076265407</id><published>2006-06-28T02:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-29T19:35:07.200+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bakit Kaya Ganun?</title><content type='html'>Ang hirap no? Ung pilitin kalimutan angtaongmahal n mahal mu...ung taong xa din mismu angsobrang nanakit sau..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E kaw naman kc sumobra namanconfident mo sa sarili....porket alammong mahal na mahal ka na nyabinabalewala mo na!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay life....ang stupid no? ang tagalmong hinintayang taong tapat sau, taposngayong anjannad mo naman pinapahalagahan!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ano bang klaseng utak meron ka?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon, nagsawa na sya!Napagod na at unti-unti narin nawalan ngpagmamahal sayo....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 araw bigla na lang nyang nasabi sa sarilinya naayaw na nya at napagod na din syangintindihinkunganong mundo meron ka....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natawa ka nalang...hehehehehehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh ano?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ako naman nambalewala e!Masaya naman ako kahit wala sya!I dont care!D ko na sya mahal no!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOW ASTIG.....Daling sabihin no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E bat bago matulog sya parin iniisip mo?Bat mga ngiti pa din nya nakalarawan sautak mo?Bat hanggang ngayon d mo syamakalimutan?Bat namimis mo sya?ung mga txt nia sau naby,kain kna ha??by,asan ka??by,mahal na mahal kita tandaan mu yan..by na kta kta ah..by ang cute tlga ng mata mo..by wag na wag mo ko iiwan kailangangkailangan kta..by sbrang saya ko sau...ILOVEYOU..:'(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dati everytym n tinetext k nia, galit n galit kKc ang filing mu minomonitor k n niaOras oras, pag nagseselos siya kala mo wala naciang twala sau, eh tanga ka pla eh,, mahal kanga eh, xempre ayaw ka niya mawala.. pag nagaaway, ano? papakita mo sa kanya na kahitmwala cia kayang kaya mo!!ang TAAS NG PRIDE MO!!&lt;br /&gt;Pero ngaun, parang bumaliktad angmundo..hinahanap hanap mu xa ngaun??!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O kala ko ba d mo na sya mahal?....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o baka naman d mo lang kayang amininsa sarili moang labis na panghihinayang...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon ako naman angtatawa.. hahahahahhahah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minsan kc iba ang sinasabi ng puso satotoong nararamdaman n2!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E pano yan wala na sya? Masakit no???Kasi kahit gusto mo syang kausapin, mkasama dmo na magawa dahil alam mu n ikaw nman angODER MAN/WOMAN ngaun sa buhay nia..at ung dating akala mu wala lng, na pinagbigyanmo sa knya..ang may KARAPATAN... na sa taongMAHAL mo..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon,sa palagay mo sinong niloko mo?sya ba?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malamang ngayon masaya na sya,habang ikawpatuloy na niloloko sarili mo sa bagay naakala mo totoo!!!&lt;br /&gt;Guys, the lesson hir is....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minsan lang dumating ang taong pwedeng mag mahal sayo ng totoo at kayang tumanggap ng buong pagkatao moh.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MINSAN lang......at pag yan pinakawalan mo...baka d mo na kayang ibalik pa ang MINSAN!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143469076265407?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143469076265407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143469076265407&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143469076265407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143469076265407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/06/bakit-kaya-ganun.html' title='Bakit Kaya Ganun?'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143389292221794</id><published>2006-06-28T02:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T02:44:52.923+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Needed Someone...</title><content type='html'>Someone kind and thoughtful ...Someone loving and caring... Someone who's fun to be with ...Someone who's no self-centered.... A good listener.... Someone stick-to-one.... Someone who's tired playin around.... Someone who can accept me for who i am ....Someone understanding and patient........ Someone who will not take me for granted ......Someone honest and decent......... Someone who will always be there for me no matter what Someone supportive......... Someone who's not moody ang fickle minded........ Someone whom i can share my thoughts and dreams ........Someone I can hug and kiss good morning and goodnight for the rest of my life...... Someone who seeks for a serious and long-term-relationship ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143389292221794?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143389292221794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143389292221794&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143389292221794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143389292221794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/06/just-needed-someone.html' title='Just Needed Someone...'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143377414687528</id><published>2006-06-28T02:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T02:42:54.146+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sana sya na Nga ...</title><content type='html'>Kay tagal kong ipinagdasal sa Diyos na bigyan Niya ako ng taong magmamahal at makakasama ko sa buhay, 'yung hindi ako paglalaruan at mamahalin ang kabuuan ko, masaya ako kasi pagkatapos ng sanlaksang luha at masasakit na karanasan sa pag-ibig ay ibinigay na Niya sa akin ang taong makakasama ko sa panghabang panahon.&lt;br /&gt;Nag-uumapaw ang puso ko sa kaligayahan. Mabilis ang bawat tibok at sa muling pagkakataon magmamahal akong muli ng walang halong pangamba na matulad ito sa aking nakaraan. Sisimulan naming dalawa ang isang bagong umaga na magkasama. Nagdadamayan at magkayakap naming haharapin ang bawat problemang darating. Ngayon higit kailanman, hindi na ako matitinag at hindi ko isusuko ang isang pagkakataong liligaya ako ng lubusan.&lt;br /&gt;Para akong high school ulit na sumasabak sa pag-ibig sa unang pagkakataon, sa totoo lang kinikilig ako sa mga sandaling ito. Bumibilis ang pintig ng puso ko sa kagalakan.&lt;br /&gt;Alam ko siya na talaga at naniniwala akong itinadhana kaming magsama at magmahalan hanggang sa huling tibok ng aming mga puso.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Lord. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143377414687528?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143377414687528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143377414687528&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143377414687528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143377414687528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/06/sana-sya-na-nga.html' title='Sana sya na Nga ...'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143736757251296</id><published>2006-06-24T13:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T03:42:47.573+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sad Truth</title><content type='html'>Those who touched my body failed to arouse my heart and those who aroused my body failed to touch my heart...Anyone who can make me melt like hot fudge on a sundae?&lt;a href="http://www.servotronusa.com/noel.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143736757251296?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143736757251296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143736757251296&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143736757251296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143736757251296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/06/sad-truth.html' title='A Sad Truth'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143730404781187</id><published>2006-06-07T03:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T03:41:44.063+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Moment in Contemplation - My Thoughts In Filipino</title><content type='html'>Kapag Ginulo ka ng Pag-ibig&lt;br /&gt;Marami kang iniisip, naiisip at gustong isipin. Pero mas gusto mong malaman ng lahat ng tao ang lahat ng kabangagan mo. Wala lang.&lt;br /&gt;Magpapansin. Umasang may mag-rereply sa senseless thoughts mo.&lt;br /&gt;Mag-advice. Magsabing, "Oo.. naiintindihan kita.."&lt;br /&gt;Pero ayos lang sayo kahit di nila basahin to. Bakit pa? Sino ka ba?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nakakadiri. Ayaw mong tuksuhin ka nilang, "yuck!! Ang mushy mo pala!!"&lt;br /&gt;Sa lahat ng kaibigan mong humihingi ng advice tungkol sa pag-ibig, ang sinasabi mo lang palagi, "*****, kalimutan mo na lang yang nararamdaman mo. Korni mo e. Ang OA mo pa. Guguluhin lang nyan buhay mo." Ang sasabihin pa nila sayo, "Talaga? Buti ka pa, wala kang lovelife. Di ka stressed. Di ka kinakabahan palagi --"&lt;br /&gt;"At di ako mukhang *****."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May na-offend ka na naman. Pero pakialam mo ba sa kanila? Totoo naman ah.&lt;br /&gt;Tapos bigla mong mare-realize, may problema ka na rin pala. Hayop talaga. Gusto mong sumigaw. Bakit may nanggugulo na rin ng buhay mo ngayon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang dami mong crush, grabe. Yung isang guy na nagyaya ng date sa Greenbelt, yung guy na na meet ko sa BED, Malate, yung guy na nasa kabilang building na nagyayang mag coffee sa starbucks kasama ako nung minsang naabutan ako ng malakas na ulan sa tapat ng office nila matapos kong mag client call. Yung guy na nakipagkilala sa MRT Ayala station , yung bigla nalang lumapit habang abala ka sa pakikinig ng bago mong I-pod, matapos makipagkilala ay niyaya kang kumain muna sandali sa Shangri-la sa crossing...&lt;br /&gt;Si Mark na dating taga UP din pero ngayoy Manager na sa isang napakalaking Call Center sa Makati , si Gbhoy ng front desk ng isang 4-star hotel sa Manila , si Karl na dating kasama ko sa Monster Radio 89.9 nung nag Radio One DJ ako. Si Don , agent ko dati nung supervisor pa ako sa isa din malaking call center sa Alabang  at si Brad Pitt. Si Mark Walhberg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sampu. Imagine?&lt;br /&gt;Pero di naman nila ginugulo ang buhay mo.&lt;br /&gt;Ayos lang di ba? Kaso may isang taong di mo maintindihan kung bakit kahit anong gawin mo, talagang ginugulo pa rin niya yung buhay mo.&lt;br /&gt;Para siyang mangkukulam. Kahit saan nakikita mo siya.&lt;br /&gt;Inalis mo na noon yung pangalan nya sa phone mo. Kaso sinulat mopa rin yung number nya sa diary mo. Engot ka talaga. Tapos nilagay mo ulit sa cell mo. Tapos inalis mo ulit kase nainis ka. Naihagis mo pa nga sa kama mo yung phone mo e. Tapos naisip mo wala rin namang epekto kung nasa cell mo siya o wala, kaya nilagay mo na lang ulit.Tapos binura mo na talaga ngayon. Panahon na para kalimutan na talaga sya --- naiisip mo.&lt;br /&gt;Okay na? Hinde. Mas malala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na-memorize mo na kase yung number nya. Tsk tsk tsk. Naaawa ka na talaga sa sarili mo.&lt;br /&gt;Naiinis ka pa kapag sinasabi sayo ng mga kaibigan mo, "Nakita ko sha sa A.S. kanina." Asar na asar ka. Sabay sigaw with matching facial __expression, "PAKEELAM KO?"&lt;br /&gt;At magtatanong sila ng isang tanong na matagal mo nang hinihintay na sagutin sa harap ng maraming tao: "Baket? Ayaw mo na ba sa kanya?"&lt;br /&gt;Tatahimik ka muna. Parang si Lei sa harap ni **** Chin.&lt;br /&gt;Magbubuntung-hininga. Tititigan silang lahat na naghihintay ng sagot mo.&lt;br /&gt;Biglang magkakaron ng split personality disorder, ngingiti at magsasalita: "Sino yon?"&lt;br /&gt;Nagandahan ka sa ginawa mo. Effective. Wow, para talagang di na nya kilala.&lt;br /&gt;Biglang makikita mo siya. Ayun. Mabubuwisit ka talaga. Maaalala mo yung mga panahong pinagmukha ka niyang *****. Yung panahong kailangan mo siya. Yung panahong iniwan ka nya sa ere... Yung panahong tinalikuran ka nya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masisira ang araw mo. Wala ka sa mood makipagtawanan. Sisigawan mo ang kaibigan mong natapakan ang white rubber shoes mo. Gugustuhin mong balatan ng buhay ang lahat ng taong nagtatanong kung bakit ka wala sa mood. Hihilingin mong mong makapag-teleport ka papuntang Egypt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At bigla mong maririnig ang isa sa mga kaibigan mo, "Ganyan talaga pag in-love." May background pang mga palihim na tawa. At sabay-sabay silang kakanta ng --- Why do birds suddenly appear...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di ka makakapagsalita. Mararamdaman mong umiinit yung tenga mo, yung leeg mo, yung mukha mo. Bigla mong maiisip ang pinakaepektibong palusot, ngingiti at magsasalita, "Sino yon?"&lt;br /&gt;Ayos na sana, kaso di mo naisip na mali yung statement mo. At bago mo pa mabawi ang sinabi mo, sasabihin na nila, "Baket? Me sinabe bang pangalan??? Yak!! Halata!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling mo masusunog na sa init yung mukha mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kahit anong pilit mong kalimutan siya, mabilis talagang kumalat ang balita. Minsan naglalakad ka. May masasalubong kang dalawang taong di mo kilala. Magbubulungan sila. Titingnan ka, mula ulo hanggang paa, at maririnig mo ang isang bulong: "Yan ba?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grabe, ang ganda na naman ng araw mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di mo na lang papansinin. Kahit nakikilala mo na sila. Isang araw naman nakikipagkwentuhan ka sa isang client mo. Gwapo. Niloloko mo pa nga tong taong to na siya na ang pinakagwapong taong nakita mo sa personal. Hehe, tawa nya. Ang saya-saya mo, biglang may dadaan sa likod mo na dalawang taong di sinasadyang naging pamilyar na sayo. Lumingon ka, at pagtalikod mo, nagsalita ang isa: "Pinagpapantasyahan e no?" Sasagot ang isa pa, "Oo nga."&lt;br /&gt;Oh hindee!!! Anong nagawa mo??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Titigil ka na sa pakikipagkwentuhan. Aalis ka na lang na punung-puno ng sama ng loob.&lt;br /&gt;Naaasar ka sa lahat ng tao. Bakit kailangang pakialaman ang buhay ng taong ni hindi nila kilala? Bakit kailangang pagtawanan at ipagkalat ang mga bagay na di na dapat pinag-uusapan? Marami pang version yung mga naririnig mo sa kanila. Minsan ganito, "Siya yun." O kaya, "Ows? Yan yon?" Hayop. Marathon eavesdropper ka kase.&lt;br /&gt;Kahit ikaw mandidiri sa iniisip mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At matapos mong malaman ang lahat ng bagay tungkol sa kanya, kahit yung nilihim nya at nalaman mo lang nung tapos na, naisip mong kalimutan na lang talaga siya.&lt;br /&gt;One time nakipag-chat ka.&lt;br /&gt;musta luvlyf?&lt;br /&gt;meron b?&lt;br /&gt;wlang kwenta&lt;br /&gt;ows? bkt?&lt;br /&gt;basta. wla syang kwenta.&lt;br /&gt;mahal mo?&lt;br /&gt;huh?&lt;br /&gt;mhl mo p rn un.&lt;br /&gt;weh&lt;br /&gt;honestly, mhl m p rn ba?&lt;br /&gt;argh!&lt;br /&gt;ewan&lt;br /&gt;wlang kwenta pero mhl mo?&lt;br /&gt;tsk tsk&lt;br /&gt;Matitigilan ka. Tititigan mo yung monitor ng matagal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am i ryt?&lt;br /&gt;hey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ita-type mo yung "gtg" nang di oras. May kasama pang "nys miting u" para di halatang nabwisit ka sa sinabi nya. Alt-F4. Disconnect. Shut down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asar na asar ka na talaga sa sarili mo. Di mo na gustong mag-teleport. Gusto mo na lang talagang ma-dissolve sa hangin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ikaw na ngayon ang nangangailangan ng advice. Pero walang kwenta lahat ng sinabi nila. "Kalimutan mo na siya." PAANO? "Wag ka kase magpapaapekto. Wag mo isipin yung sinasabi ng ibang tao." HA?!? ANG LABO!!! "Marami pang iba jan!" EH SIYA NGA LANG EH!!! Aasarin ka pa kapag sinabi nilang, "Bakit di na lang si _____? Yihee! Okay naman siya ah." Ngek, ano yun, ganon lang kadali?&lt;br /&gt;Nakatitig ka ngayon sa monitor. Pabalik-balik ka lang sa lyrics.com, sa CRS, at sa email composer mo. Nakakainis. Di mo na alam kung ano pa ang sasabihin mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tama, bwisit sa buhay yang feelings na yan. May magtatanong pa, "Bakit mo ba yon mahal?" Wow pare, wala kang maisagot. Buti pa sa Math pwede kang manghula ng formula, pwede mong paglaruan ang solution mo. May partial points ka pa. Eh sa tanong na yon? Tsk tsk. Malabong mangyari yon.&lt;br /&gt;At kung BS Love and Affection ang course mo, tol mas mabuti pang mag-shift ka na lang sa BA Emotionlessness and Insensitivity habang maaga. Malamang magkita pa kayo don.&lt;br /&gt;Paulit-ulit mong sinasabi sa sarili mo na wala ka na talagang pakialam sa kanya. Pero bakit pag nakikita mo siya, natitigilan ka pa rin? Minsan, kaibigan mo na yung nagsasabi sayo, O, kala ko ba wala na?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tatawa ka na lang. Lalakasan mo para di mahalata yung teary eyes mo.&lt;br /&gt;Di ka na naman makakapagsalita. Litong-lito ka na. Di mo alam kung bakit nga ba ganon. Kung bakit ka apektado. Kung bakit nagbabago ang lahat pag nandiyan siya. Kung bakit gustung-gusto mo siyang bigyan ng nerve cells para maramdaman niya ang lahat Lahat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon, ipapadala mo to sa mga kaibigan mo, sa mga ka-block mo, at sa iba pang taong wala talagang pakialam sayo. Sa kanilang lahat, di mo alam kung sino talaga ang may tiyagang tapusin ang ganito kahabang senseless na mensahe. Di mo rin alam kung sino talaga ang mag-iisip para sayo. Di mo alam kung sino ang maaapektuhan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, gusto mong ma-disconnect ka na lang bigla. Maubusan ng internet credits. Sabugan ng pc. Mag-brown-out. Biglang mag-collapse. Umiyak. Malunod. Maging ipis. Uminom ng Skele-Gro. Mabagsakan ng asteroid. Maglahong parang bula.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kase, tama yung sinabi ng naka-chat mo. Sinasabi mong walang kwenta, pero mahal mo.&lt;br /&gt;Sobra.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143730404781187?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143730404781187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143730404781187&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143730404781187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143730404781187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/06/another-moment-in-contemplation-my.html' title='Another Moment in Contemplation - My Thoughts In Filipino'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143697496974787</id><published>2006-06-02T03:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T03:36:14.976+08:00</updated><title type='text'>HIM .... and ...ME... (Circa Makati 2006)</title><content type='html'>HIM....Sits in silence at a filled table, feeling the chatter of the voices wash over him, not stirring him from his own private thoughts. he’s really just waiting to go home and be alone, but to let down the façade would prove more trouble than its worth.Sitting Waiting WatchingClosing his mind back into his own thoughts he pulls at his sweater, trying to feel for the place that once held a heart. Feelings, words, silvery touches glide through his memory as he recalls the journey that got him to where he is now.No escapeWhen did he change?he hates what he has become, but he is helpless to change it – he is only what he has made him. Shaped and curved to perfection, everything he wants him to be. He recalls when he used to smile and mean it, when words meant everything and touches even more. He remembers promises made way back then, and still made – still meaning nothing. Just made to pass the time. That’s all they’re doing now. Passing time for a meaningless cause.Stirred from his thoughts as the others begin to rise, he picks up his bag and follows. No eye contact, he just wants to remember yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When love wasn’t just a word.ME...I no longer see the beauty in his rich brown eyes, the colour of mocha or the darkest chocolate you savour at midnight. I doesn’t see the shimmering of his dark asian hair, or the manner and grace of his step. I only sees shades of grey, swirling and twisting – images of the guys I has loved before. Twisting curls, wind chime laughs, interlocking lips – they all merge into one as I look for perfection. The perfection he can never give me. I dont feel the touches as his eyes burn holes into my face and his fingers roam my skin before settling within his own. I am no longer aware of how beautiful a-pair we make.He is beautiful – he doesn’t mean a thing.Perfection cannot be manufactured, no matter how he tries.he is not who I need.If only he were someone else, the one he had – the one he wants to recreate. Then maybe he could make the meaningless whispers mean something. Maybe he could put passion behind those soft touches and sweet kisses.But the show must go on.He..Feels the touch of his fingers on his leg as they begin the journey home. He whispers in my ear and sends shivers down my spine, almost touching my core. I hates this feeling – the manipulation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am  his a puppet; oh and how he knows how to pull my strings. Suggestions flow smoothly from his parted lips as I tried so desperately not to react, trying to keep the barrier up between us; trying to keep my distance. My legs begin to shake in the sheer anticipation, and its hard to tell when the feeling changes from excitement to regret – before we have made it to the end of the street.Giving myself has never been so hard.Resisting was never easy.I looks up into his eyes, wanting him to understand how much these words hurt me when we both know they don’t mean a thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanting him to realise how much I need him, and that I knows everything he feels. Can see the calculation behind every perfect move, the movement of every finger across my skin.His eyes go hazy as he succumbs to his touch and prepares himself for another shot at perfection.He..Begins with his hands, then follows with his mouth, skin on skin and they begin.He studies my form as he lays me down on the pillow, watching my hair as it splays out across the pillow in picturesque form. My image twists and swirls in his mind as the others replace his, – by the one who’s face is never far from his thoughts. I could be perfect, if he could see me – not the ghost of the lies he still keeps so close to his heart.That’s his kind of truth.He knows this night will be the same as the others, every single time.Motions leading to noises leading to passion, heat and screams.But they will be dimmed as his thoughts stray to anything, anything but him. He knows how to make it good, and keep me coming back for more.And he knows he feels nothing.But he doesn’t know I feels the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He moves forward and the actions are put into motion.ME..Pulls him down close to me as his hands rake across his back, kissing him, willing him to feel something – anything other than the nothingness reflected in his eyes. His hands move from left to right and I can almost trace after the heat he ignites not matter how cold his hands may remain.I tense as he moves for the buttons of my jacket, before placing my own hands over his. I pull them away and moves from under him to the side of the bed, before reaching for my shoes and bag. Invisible strings pull me back towards the bed, back towards everything he wants but can never have.Love.With a final glance from smouldering eyes he looks towards me , someone who will always love but never be loved by, not with the passion and all consuming feelings he keeps so deep inside me. With perfect precision and a shaky heart, he stands and moves softly over to the door, leaving everything he has ever needed behind.he could be losing everything.But, he never had “everything” to begin with.He..Watches stunned as this guy he has never seen before moves away from him and to the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His head clears as he sees a me before him that has the strength that no other guy he have had before.The strength to walk away.I turn around and glances at him and he sees the fire in my rich chocolate eyes, and the regret that seeps in me before I even met the door. My body sways in perfect time with the beating of his heart as he realises that I was everything he ever wanted in a guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was every lover he had ever had, and only too willing to make myself into what he wanted, every different person who had ever meant anything to him.And I was leaving him.His heart slowly cracked with every delicate footstep, and he reaches out to the retreating figure in a desperate attempt to keep me here, and meet this guy that meant everything to him, without him knowing it.“I love you” He called out.“I’ve heard it all before..”I whisperedas I closed the door.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143697496974787?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143697496974787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143697496974787&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143697496974787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143697496974787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/06/him-and-me-circa-makati-2006.html' title='HIM .... and ...ME... (Circa Makati 2006)'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143668650344676</id><published>2006-06-01T06:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T03:31:26.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I hope Someday He Reads This</title><content type='html'>it' s been a long time since we parted ways and i know that you' re really happy and inlove now, well i' m glad i made the right decision of letting you go. The first year without you wasn' t really easy for me but i made it through somehow, now i' m fighting for the 2nd year, still without you and most probably i could never have you back again. it was odd 'coz my feelings hasn' t change even a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were moments where i could still feel the pain and when i start to reminisce our happy moments i would just smile and it' s as if you' re here..i must be crazy.hehe..i was hoping that he takes care of you just the way i do, you know i always wanted to see you happy, that' s my ultimate goal. i still want to put that sweet smile on your face someday, that' s why i' m striving so hard to give atleast one of your greatest dream. Like have your billboard in EDSA or somewhere, i know you really want that.or i hope i could take you to paris your dream place. a pet Chihuahua that you' re longing to have for like years.a european or asian cruise, guess that' s gonna take a lot of money. .but you know what? i really don' t care bout how much will it cost or how will people judge me positively or negatively, no one can measure how happy and fulfilled i am everytime i see you happy. Remember the time when i gave you a ring? i wrapped it around a pink kiddie socks, i asked you if it fit in well you said yes, you were so happy and surprised that time, then you asked me why i gave you a kiddie socks, i started laughing coz you didn' t know that there was a ring on it coz it fell on your bed..it was one of the bestest memories of us..that time i felt very lucky coz how could a 21 years old guy appreciate a simple pink kiddie socks&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143668650344676?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143668650344676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143668650344676&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143668650344676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143668650344676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-hope-someday-he-reads-this.html' title='I hope Someday He Reads This'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143656469354222</id><published>2006-06-01T06:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T03:29:24.696+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Puppy Love Story!</title><content type='html'>Ah puppy love stories...I recall mine. It was the summer of mid-80's. I was 11, turning 12. He was 12. I met him when my family went to Bali Indonesia to visit my tita and cousins. Now he was my cousin's classmate. My parents made me and my sister go with my cousins to their school--Bali International School. He was a really cute white boy (the only time I got ever got interested in a white boy). He started out as a show-off. But later on, apparently he told my cousin I was cute and said he liked me. He talked to me the next time I went with my cousins and he said he liked me and I guess I said I liked him too. We ended up holding hands haha!!! Hanggang dun lang po!!! I left that summer and he gave me a letter. I sent him a letter from the Philippines through my cousins. My cousins later on went for a vacation in Manila they said he thought my guy cousin was playing a prank on him, so I never wrote back.I wonder how he is...I wonder if he grew up good looking. I think I still have that letter somewhere...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143656469354222?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143656469354222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143656469354222&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143656469354222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143656469354222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/05/my-puppy-love-story.html' title='My Puppy Love Story!'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143682632986842</id><published>2006-06-01T00:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T03:33:46.333+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything About the Rain ( BED circa 2006 )</title><content type='html'>Its falling and falling. Falling like how you fell for him . Falling hard and fast and roughly but sweet and lightly and beautiful. Its falling from the sky, far far away up where heaven knows, falling down quick but in a slow motion, before smashing on the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You love the rain. Yes, you really do. Really. It means so much for you. Several moments in your life have been in the rain. Some sad ones and some happy ones. Some sweet ones and some bad ones. Whatever they were, they mean a lot for you. Really. They do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You remember the time you first met. It was raining then. Oh, it was such a rainstorm because thats how you felt. A complete disaster. Your life was a dirty mess and you met him in a coffeeshop. You were bored and looking for a hot mocha frappe, flipping through a boring cheap thriller book with a pathetic title and unknown author in big golden letters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about the time you kissed? Storm. Rainstorm of course.At a party, you saw him there. He was friend of a friends friend apparently. You gave him a smile and he shot a goofy-looking smile back. But then, later on, you caught him in the bathroom to a cute looking guy you did not want to know the name of. Lips glued, arms and legs tangled, bodies swaying. He was kissing the life out of him.&lt;br /&gt;You froze, caught his eye and ran. You ran, ran and ran in the rain. All wet, all cold. You ran till your legs couldnt carry you and the feeling of stupidity broke out. The tears were burning away the coldness from your cheeks. So many emotions were washing you. Sadness, anger, heartache, frustration, you name it. Thats when you felt the slight pressure on your shoulder and the heavy smell of alcohol went up your nose. Him. It was Him, the one with the big H.&lt;br /&gt;*******. Idiot. You refused to look at him and you barely even knew him or even knew why you felt like this and he begged you to forgive him and he barely even knew you. he gave the explanation of why be had been with that guy. Suddenly, stupidity came back again. You felt so stupid. *******. Idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He slowly, very carefully, put his hands around your waist, so gently as if you were going push him away any moment, which you would if it werent for the fact that you had oddly forgiven him. Thats when it happened.&lt;br /&gt;CRASH! BANG! BOOM! Everything around you exploded and you drowned with no mercy. he kissed you. he kissed you! You fell right then, right there, that moment. Nothing would be the same. Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;The days and weeks and months that followed were heaven. Oh so beautiful and sweet love. Roses, chocolate, dinners, cuddling in the couch while watching Peter Pan (your favourite film), dancing, cards, books, kisses, laughter, banana splits in cafés and other lovely stuff lovers suppose to do. Everything was so perfect until devil himself showed up of course and took over. You should have known it was too good to last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The break-up was very hard to go through but just like the sentence tells, you did make it through. It was in the rain too though. You both went out one day together. Had dinner, some little drinks and dancing, a walk and so on, you know, the usual stuff. You felt it inside you, coming, just like you always do. It was going to rain. You were on your way back home and then she abruptly stopped. he gave you the We-Need-To-Talk-It-Is-Serious-Look. The look that told you everything would change. And then she uttered those three words. Three simple words that did changed everything.&lt;br /&gt;"It is over."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats all he said before he turned away. Away from the rain. Away from you. You fell this time too. You fell down to the ground on your knees and cried, the tears making no difference to the rain that fell so slowly and sweet and sad. It was raining just like your emotions and wetting you, leaving you cold and gasping and shivering.Here was no rainstorm that day. Just rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is life, you think. This is happiness. And you couldnt care a damn about anything else&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143682632986842?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143682632986842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143682632986842&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143682632986842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143682632986842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/05/everything-about-rain-bed-circa-2006.html' title='Everything About the Rain ( BED circa 2006 )'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143642783775062</id><published>2006-03-11T04:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-08T03:12:16.886+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Call Center according to ABS-CBN and my Blah about it!</title><content type='html'>"Call center"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mataas na sweldo, magaan na trabaho, no age limit at hindi rin kailangang college graduate. Ang tanging requirement, ganda ng boses at galing sa pagsasalita. 'Ika nga ng iba, "in" ka kapag nasa call center ka. Pero paano kung ang kapalit ng magadnang sweldo at iba't ibang benepisyo, ay ang kanilang kalusugan at kaligtasan?&lt;br /&gt;That is the article at abs-cbsnews.com about their feature in The Correspondents about call centers and their employees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad to say, Gigi Grande and the producers who conceptualized the said episode was not able to capture the truth behind call centers and their employees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Magaan na trabaho -- this is a misconception that a lot of people have about call centers. this is work, serious work and not playtime. as call center agents we are the frontliners of some of the biggest companies around the world. we handle their first line of defense for their businnes, Customer Service. we Filipinos who work in call centers represent these companies to their consumers and we filipinos can spell the success or downfall of these business just on how we deal with their consumers 24/7 and that is not an easy task. the reason why call centers thrive in the philippines is because filipinos have good customer service skills. we are professional workers and we give everything a 100%. i salute all the call center employees who make this feat possible. it means jobs and job security to the filipinos who wanted to work in their own country.&lt;br /&gt;no age limit -- because call centers are equal opportunity employers. they do not set limitations to people's ability to work. it is only here in the philippines where we put an age limit to applications. it really does not matter what age the applicant is as long as they can still deliver quality performance. it is called diversity.&lt;br /&gt;hindi rin kailangang college graduate - for cheap call centers maybe, not for the big ones. we encourage our applicants to finish college first before applying. they may also be assisted through schedule requests if they want to continue studying while still employed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang tanging requirement, ganda ng boses at galing sa pagsasalita -- for radio stations yes. not for call center. we are not DJs. we also require high IQ and intelligence in call centers. For example, Wil Ison, the 24 yo manager who was featured in The Correpondents. You did not even applaude him for reaching that position in such a young age. if he was employed in a bank, he will only become a manager if he kissed enough bossess ass or because he is already 50 years old. People like Wil were promoted because they are good employees. Most of the call centers have internal application processes that enables the employees to apply for higher position highliting their performance and capabilities and not who their friends are and whose ass they just wiped.&lt;br /&gt;'Ika nga ng iba, "in" ka kapag nasa call center ka. - this is not a fad. we are working, we pay our taxes, we are productive citizens of this country. we chose to stay and earn here in our own country rather than go abroad and contribute to the brain drain. we earn a lot beacuse we work hard. we are thankful for the good education we were provided by our parents that gave us the competencies we have now. we are working for multinational companies and we get promoted. most of us 21-30 years old and we are managers, supervisors and senior managers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We may not be doctors or lawyers but at least we are not corrupt. we are productive and we make sure that our families and our future families will not be included with the uneducated, paid rallyists in EDSA, who do not even understand why they are there. we are not a burden to the government, they should even be thankful because it is our tax, the middle class tax, that makes it possible for the Philippines to stay alive.&lt;br /&gt;instead of potraying us as obese, smoking insomiacs....why not thank us? applaude our achievements, be proud that we are very good with what we do that's why investors come in to the philippines. ask the government to provide security to the employees who have different schedules from the normal 9-5 workers? ask them to take care of us and in return we will work harder, show the companies that it is worth investing in the philippines, we will continue to pay our taxes and slowly but surely help our country progress.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143642783775062?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143642783775062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143642783775062&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143642783775062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143642783775062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/03/call-center-according-to-abs-cbn-and.html' title='Call Center according to ABS-CBN and my Blah about it!'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143561881651166</id><published>2006-01-27T02:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T03:13:38.816+08:00</updated><title type='text'>An OPEN Letter to the Guy who PASSED By My LIFE..</title><content type='html'>Dear Bestfriend,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been thinking about you. i know that i have not talked to you since the last time you and i unexpectedly met. remember that time? We were both in a crowded party amongst many nameless and faceless people that time. You informed me that you are happily getting married. and i am glad for you. i truly am. but as we spoke some more, it became apparent that although your future marriage is seem to be going well - you are restless. you have this undying urge to go beyond the person you are right now. your confidence may have waned a bit but it is steadily coming back. you said that there are those who perceive you as a doormat. and you also informed me that you want to strangle their accursed necks, though not literally. I saw the life in your eyes and it was like the past all over again. I have fallen in love with you once more. i love you - despite your mistakes, dispite your angst, despite the folly that you sometimes display. bear this inside you, i love you. i truly really love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darwin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143561881651166?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143561881651166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143561881651166&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143561881651166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143561881651166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/01/open-letter-to-guy-who-passed-by-my.html' title='An OPEN Letter to the Guy who PASSED By My LIFE..'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143541204265404</id><published>2006-01-15T17:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T03:10:12.046+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Keep It Simple!</title><content type='html'>It really takes two to tango.Thats the thing i keep on reminding myself on how love really goes.words can really be deceiving especially in the queer scene.infatuation always mislead those people on what true love really means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We often mistakenly feel dat its love which struck us.but in reality, we just love the feeling of being in love.Its easy to find someone u like, but its hard to find that connection uve been looking for.Im so jaded with love right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too jaded that i become so pessimistic about it.i have a few crushes but none of which&lt;br /&gt;did prosper.i dont make the first move.i hate the feeling of rejection, who does anyway?&lt;br /&gt;sex is so casual for me, its like brushing your teeth 3 times a day or walking inside a fastfood - FAST and EASY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a bunch of friends- REAL friends who have been with me for ages, no need for one now.&lt;br /&gt;money? still broke yet for sure near my fortune. u do some puffs. a couple of bottles. some tiny tabs. snort some lines.then ull feel a temporary contentment.mingle with some. flirt a few. hump one after another.&lt;br /&gt;then ull throw them in the hamper anyway.just think of loving urself.the best remedy to unsolicited loneliness.&lt;br /&gt;just one more thing, "SELFISHNESS is a virtue" just keep it simple.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143541204265404?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143541204265404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143541204265404&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143541204265404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143541204265404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2006/01/just-keep-it-simple.html' title='Just Keep It Simple!'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143518363536994</id><published>2006-01-01T15:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T03:06:23.636+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>In a few hours from now a brand new year will start, and hopefully it would bring me better opportunities, new friends and a better perspective in life!&lt;br /&gt;2005 was a very difficult year for me,  a lot of hardships and disappointments with my career and with my personal life,eventhough It was also a year to know who my real friends are and also to meet some wonderful people and enjoy some really fun moments...&lt;br /&gt;Again, I hope and pray that 2006 would be a BETTER and BIGGER year for me, I wish that unlike the past years, this comming year would bring me more prosperity, wealth and good health and better realtionships with my family, friends and hopefully someone who I can complement life with!&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I also pray that this comming year 2006 would make me have a better relationship with GOD.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143518363536994?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143518363536994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143518363536994&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143518363536994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143518363536994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2005/12/in-few-hours-from-now-brand-new-year.html' title=''/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143478088524382</id><published>2005-10-01T12:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T02:59:40.886+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking for HIM...</title><content type='html'>His smile dazzles me and the walls mock us, calling out the improbability of love. There aren’t words to make light of this chaos and all of his promises are suffocating my will to try. I have lent wings to our madness and naively coaxed it to fly. Now it flutters helplessly mere inches above our outstretched fingers and mine lack the dexterity to grasp it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is his, and I wish for nothing more than to occupy that simple space beside him as he lies silently awaiting the dawn. I want my capable hands to know the soft skin that stretches over the entirety of his body. I want to kiss every freckle and name every birthmark. I want to know every inch of his body as deeply as I know the dark corners of his soul. I want to know what his pale skin looks like under the moon and how he’ll smile when my fingertips gingerly brush over the tender areas he’s spent so long describing to me. I want to feel his hair on my face as he claims my lips as his own, I want to touch that hair, just to be sure that it’s real. I want to feel his weight on my body, I want to feel him. I want to feel this passion build until we finally find release in my bed beneath the moon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143478088524382?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143478088524382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143478088524382&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143478088524382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143478088524382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2005/09/looking-for-him.html' title='Looking for HIM...'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143493309447986</id><published>2005-10-01T00:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T03:02:13.096+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Friend that I Almost LOVED!</title><content type='html'>So many questions float around inside my head when I'm around you. Am I allowed to love you? Is it safe? I won't get hurt, will I? Did you know you're exactly what I wished for? .... There are many others that continue to build themselves in my head and I think of all the possible answers behind them. I'm really starting to like you ( Well , I started realizing that since early this year). I'm really starting to feel you. When our hands touch I can feel so much positive energy pulsing through your finger tips. When I hold onto your shirt, I never want to let go. .....But I'm so scared.... The last guy I was with would've killed me if I ever got attached. He would've ripped my heart out as a warning. Back then I had cut off all of my fingers so I couldn't be tempted hold onto him. When I finally felt safe away from him, I bandaged my fingers back to my hands. They're still healing and I'm trying to hold onto you as tight as I can... As long as you let me hold on. I miss being away from you.... You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm almost at the point where I feel like I'm falling in love. I just hope that you'll catch me is all....&lt;br /&gt;You know who your ...dont worry...You always told me that you see your future with you and me together...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143493309447986?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143493309447986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143493309447986&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143493309447986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143493309447986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2005/09/friend-that-i-almost-loved.html' title='A Friend that I Almost LOVED!'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143435753498859</id><published>2005-08-14T02:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T02:52:37.563+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Remembering Him...</title><content type='html'>10pm , It was Friday Night - last day of a long week of work , work and work. Like any ordinary day that passes by any normal people who strives to live amidst this cycle we called life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was waiting for my ride to go to my office, I remember that at this exact time, exactly a year ago I was with someone under the blanket of stars in the cool breez of the night. I remember it very clearly even up to now - him and me locked in each others embrace whispering sweet nothings and making what seems then undying promises to one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, at this age of modern science and modern societies insensibilities, its still in our nature to be hopless romantics and mushy when it comes to expressing our love to someone we really care for. i've always believe that not only is love the most powerful force in existence but it is in reality human nature to love and give love.&lt;br /&gt;Remembering how I was then with him brought back deep pains in my heart. Its like every thought that I make in regards to our moments together flood tears in my cheeks for It was with him that I found love - and it was with him that I lost it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its really hard remembering how it used to be.How much a person will mean to you in just a very short period of time. How one can be so very much in love with someone. Those were our days -&lt;br /&gt;It's over. He's gone.&lt;br /&gt;Which leads me on thinking, Why do we have to part while the love is still there? Why do we have to suffer? Why do we have to cry when somebody bids goodbye? Why do beginnings have an end? Why do we have to meet only to lose in the end?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are questions left unanswered, words left unsaid, letters left unread, poems left undone, songs left unsung, love left unexpressed, promises left unfulfilled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a relationship, I realized that one of the hardest things to do is saying goodbye and letting go. It is as hard as breaking a crystal because you'll never know when you will be able to pick up the pieces again. More often than not, they who go, feel not the pain of parting: it is they who stay behind that suffer, because they are left with memories of a love that was meant to be, a love that was. This was the pain I have to bear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I've learned through experience that at the beginning and at the end of a relationship, we are embarrassed to find ourselves alone. Unfair as it may seem, but that's the way love goes. That's the drama, the bittersweet and the risk of falling in love. After all, nothing is constant but change. Everything will eventually come to its end without us knowing when, without us knowing how, without us even knowing why. And we must forget not because we have to but because we have to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In letting go, sorrows come not as a single spy but in batallion. It seems that everywhere you go, everything you do, every song you hear, every turn of your head, every move of your body, every beat of your heart, every blink of your eye and every breath you take always reminds you of him. It's like a stab of a knife, a torture in the night. Funny how the whole world becomes depopulated when only one person is missing. Just imagine, there are billion people on earth and yet it seems you feel lonely and empty without the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if it's worth calling an art, but letting go entails special skills sparkled with a considerable space and time. Time heals all wounds but it takes a little push on our part. Acceptance plays a part. Not all love stories end with "...and they live happily ever after."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we have to part because of circumstances beyond our control. We have to suffer if it would mean happiness for others. We have to cry to temporarily let go of the pains. Every beginning has its end like every dawn has its dusk. It's something we can't control, something we had to live up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's over. He's gone. But life has to go on. Goodbye doesn't always mean forever. There will always be a place and time where questions will be answered, words will be spoken, letters will be read, poems will be recited in the night, songs will be sung in harmony, love will be expressed in solitude and promises will be fulfilled. Somewhere. Somehow. Someday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143435753498859?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143435753498859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143435753498859&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143435753498859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143435753498859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2005/08/remembering-him.html' title='Remembering Him...'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143447351842129</id><published>2005-08-13T15:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T02:54:33.520+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Thoughts about being Single in the Metro...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture this, Im in my mid 20's, a graduate of one of the biggest and oldest state univeristy in the country not to mention I graduated with full honors - cum laude,and currently working with one of the top fortune 100 multinational companies in the metro's elite bussiness community and, yes Im living life to the fullest by savoring freedom and independence....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of my friends adore me,most of your enemies envies how I live my life and because of good genes and linage I may proudly say that Im simply cut above the rest in terms of physical attributes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But - My biggest stumbling block is the harsh reality that I am still SINGLE in this age where having sex and having a relationship is as simple as like getting burger on your favirite fastfood joint - FAST and EASY!Even with this statistics on getting laid and having someone to be mushy with its really quit mind-boggling for me to know that with all the billions of people in this planet yet NO one seem to fit the shoe to be my one and only beloved!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I do have my lion share on the flirting game, I have had loads of time to test my prowess when it comes to dating guys but why the heck am I still alone and single?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there anyone out there who could catch my fancy and break my hibernation on love? Help me please!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143447351842129?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143447351842129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143447351842129&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143447351842129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143447351842129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2005/08/thoughts-about-being-single-in-metro.html' title=''/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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-30349090.post-115143341501406234</id><published>2005-07-30T14:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T02:36:55.016+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling In Love !</title><content type='html'>FALLING IN LOVE It is a mystery why we fall in love... It is a mystery how it happens, It is a mystery when it comes, It is a mystery why some love fails. You can analyze this mystery and look for reason and causes But you will never do anymore than take the life out of experience Just as life itself is more than the sum of bones and muscles And electrical impulses in the body Love is more than the sum of interest and attractions And commonalities the two people share. And just as life itselfes is a gift that comes And goes in its own time So too, the comming of love must be taken As unfathomable gift That cannot be questioned in itys ways. Sometimes, hopefully At least once in your life The gift of love will come to you in full power And you will take hold of it and celebrate it In inexpressible beauty This is a dream we all share. More often, it will come and take hold of you celebrate you for a brief moment And then move on... When this happen to young people They too often try to grasp the love And hold it to them Refusing to see that it is a gift that is freely given And a gift that justb freely moves away. When they fall out of love Or the person they love feels the spirit of love leaving They try desperatly to reclaim the love that is lost Rather than accepting the gift for what it was Then ... moving on. They want answeres where there are no answers They want to know what is wrong with them That makes the other person no longer love them Or they try to get their lover to change Thinking that if some small things were different Love will bloom again They blame their circumstances And say that if they go far away and start a new life together Their love will grow. They try anything to give meaning to what has happened But there is no meaning beyond the love itself And until they accept its own mysterious ways they live in a sea .. of misery You need to know this about love And to accept it, you need to treat What it brings to you with kindness If you find yourself in love With someone who does not love you Be gentle with yourself There is nothing wrong with you Love just didnt choose to rest in the other person's heart. If you find someone else in love with you And you dont love him Feel honored that love came and called on your door But gently refuse the gift you cannot return. DO NOT TAKE ADVANTAGE. DO not cause pain How you deal with love is how love deal with you And all our hearts feel the same pains and joys Even if our lives and ways are different If you fall in love with another And he falls in love with you And then love chooses to leave Do not try to reclaim it or assess blame let it go There is a reason and there is a meaning You will know...in time. Remember that you dont choose love Love chooses you All you can really do is accept it for all its mystery When it comes to your life Feel the way it feels you to overflowing Then reach out and give it away Give it back to the person who brought it alive in you Give it to others who seem poor in spirit Give it to the world around you anyway you can. This is where many lovers go wrong Having been so long without love They understand love only...as a need They see their hearts as empty places that will be filled with love And they begin to look at love as something that flows to them Rather than from them The first blush of new love is filled to overflowing But as their love cools They revert to seeing their love as a need They cease to be someone who generates love And instead become soemone who seeks love that it is a gift And can be made to grow Only by ... giving it away REMEMBER this...and keep it in your heart Love has its own time, its own season And its reason for comming and going You cannot bribe or coerce it Or reason it for staying You can Only embrace its warmth and glow it when it arrives And give it away when it comes to you But if it chooses to leave from your heart Or from the heart of your lover Ther is nothing you can do and there is nothing you should do Love has always been and will always be ...a MYSTERY. And when we close our eyes and listen to the echoes of our hearts We will know that love never left us It will always be there in our hearts Be glad that it came to live for a moment in your life. IF U KEEP YOUR HEART OPEN IT WILL COME AGAIN!!&lt;br /&gt;PS:&lt;br /&gt;This is dedicated to my Bhe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30349090-115143341501406234?l=blueunicorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/feeds/115143341501406234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30349090&amp;postID=115143341501406234&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143341501406234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30349090/posts/default/115143341501406234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueunicorn.blogspot.com/2005/07/falling-in-love.html' title='Falling In Love !'/><author><name>Blue Unicorn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10021791209352300667</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>
