Pilingon's Dream

The other night I dreamed about JB,
Then last night about Denzel and JC,
I don't know why these three,
Is it because they all miss me?
Then guess what? The next day, It's T.O.P.

P.S. PILINGON KO BOW! Nothing to write so this happened xD

Sad Truth

I once fell inlove with someone,
For him I am just no one,
I told almost everyone,
But for him I am just a FAN.

Class Cherry Blossom

Eventhough at times you make me mad,
YOU ARE THE BEST CLASS I EVER HAD.
I wanna go back to those days when I was with you
Because you won't make me feel blue.

LABYU POR EYH!!

BLOG ENTRY #1; Those times.......

Me (upper), my brother (center), and my cousin (right).
But they are not one of the 4 boys I played with which is
 included on my write-up. 

   I still could remember my Neneng days wherein I ran naked around our purok with an 'I don't care' look, cooking different plants with friends and eventually throwing it all away after exerting efforts, doing all the rituals needed in a burial with a dead bird, playing under the rain with only a panty on, and most of all playing games mostly with boys. When I reminisce those times, I always laugh at myself. But little by little I realized that I am lucky to experience such great and an amazing childhood.

    Despite of having a lot of experiences, of course I also have a most memorable one. Wanna know what that is? Well there is only one way to find out. Read more........

    It always start like my usual days, I'm with my boyfriends (oh not the one you are thinking) playing bahay-bahayan. Since I'm the only girl I became the single mother of 4 sons. I cooked lots of imaginary food for them, took "as if" good care of them, ect. everytime. I look like a true mother to them while the boys played all their heart out and there's me who'll "as if" scold them for they look like "mga batang yagit". It always take time for us to play bahay-bahayan to the point that I always go home at 5:30-6 pm which is not the normal kid's time to go home. Upon walking my way, I can always hear a familiar whistle, my father's, which always makes me ran like a cheetah. By the time I reach home, I'll ran immediately to my mother cause she's my life saver. But the saddest thing is that she end up surrendering me to my roaring and ready-to-kill father.

   As I grew mature (well, I became mature in a way even though I'm childish at times), I learned from that experience why my father scolds me for going home late. I felt how they love me that much that they're afraid to lose me and protect me from everything if possible. Those murmurs, spanks, ect. from my parents made me who I am now which is the careful Heartlain.