<?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-4890184883268600757</id><updated>2011-07-08T15:48:20.289+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life As We Know It</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>YalenaZuluaga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15087074165937140223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JC2fjOhY3w4/TaUs-o8N4oI/AAAAAAAAAKA/_Ly1wnRGlOE/s220/37639_112771242105899_100984236617933_77342_3510232_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890184883268600757.post-4227461082349499061</id><published>2011-04-14T03:22:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T04:52:26.272+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Relationships Problems</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Relationship Problems&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Relationships are hard, complicated, difficult, emotional, heartbreaking, and anything else you want to call it. But at the end of the day, we revolve around them. Our lives revolve around &lt;b&gt;LOVE.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;WHAT'S LOVE?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;It's just an emotion, it doesn't even really exist, does it? We can't look at it, we can't hold it, we can't see it! So, how can JUST an emotion have such a great impact in a person? Sounds stupid, doesn't it? But, as stupid it may sound, this is how we live our lives and this is how the world works.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Just the other day, I was watching the news, and there was a headline that literally shocked me! A man, in Melbourne, Australia; had killed his 4 year old daughter. He threw her off the highest bridge in Melbourne, JUST because he was losing the battle of her&amp;nbsp;custody. This reminded me of one of those phrases you normally hear in those dramatic soup operas:&amp;nbsp;"If I can't have you, nobody else can!". Until what extend, is a person really capable to harm somebody else, because of love? It's very scary! I am very sure, that not in your whole entire life-time, you would ever even imagined that, the person you once loved, got married to, and had a child with, would actually kill your innocent child over an adult dispute. I'm horrified!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;So, I wonder... If this father really loved his child, why would he murder her? OR, did he really loved her that much, that maybe he thought she was in danger with his mom? OR, was he just angry with the decisions made in court, that he decided to hurt his ex-wife and kill their child?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;As a mother, I can not think of ANY explanation for such action. But, I do wonder: &lt;b&gt;What kind of LOVE is that?!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Now jumping to another example... I just got home from Butter Factory, I work there every Wednesday. And tonight, my friend and her boyfriend joined me for a while, to have a good time. Oh, but we did not end up having such a great time. Because they got into an argument. What about? Apparently, there was a girl that was trying to hit on my friend's boyfriend and he smiled at her and walked away. What's the problem? That he smiled at her. My friend got so pissed off! She told him to back off and walked away from him. Does this scene sound familiar to any other couples out there? I'm sure. Because it certainly sounds familiar to me. He didn't really do anything wrong; he didn't talk to her BUT he did smile. So, what does that mean? That he liked the fact that she was hitting on him? Or, was he just being friendly? We all know that men, don't really think about what's RIGHT to do (or what WE would like them to do). They act first and think second.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;I know for sure, that I would have also reacted the same way as my friend did, but this time, I was not the one in the situation, I was looking at it from the outside. And, oh boy! Doesn't it all look so different! And that's when I realized it. Maybe, we (girls) tempt to just flip out too much on our men.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;I couldn't believe (and I still can't believe) that I thought that!! I am a person that has TOO much attitude. And I'm aware of it. I do not let thing like this slip. I would argue about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;But the argument was not over. We go outside of the club, and that's when things get too uncomfortable for me. I was caught in between my friend and her boyfriend arguing! Then, it happened. He tried to make an excuse for himself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;OKAY, LET'S STOP RIGHT HERE FOR A MINUTE!&lt;/b&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;My friend is already pissed at him, and then he LIES about the situation. Let me just say something to all the men out there!!!!!!!!! &lt;b&gt;THE WORSE THING YOU CAN IN A SITUATION LIKE THIS, IT'S LIE!!!!!&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You are already arguing about something she SAW! It's not something she HEARD, she SAW it! Why would you lie? He just made it worse! And so the argument continued and I just decided to come home. So, does my friend's boyfriend really loves her? Yes, he does. Then, why would he lie? Lying in a relationship it's not good. Whether is a big or a small lie. It affects the relationship, A LOT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;He was just trying to stop the argument and tried to find an easier way out. But, I don't think that men realize that there's no an easy way out when you are arguing with your girlfriend. He could have just admit what he had done and said sorry. That would have been IT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;This particular situation with my friend and her boyfriend, really made me think. I need to start making some changes, because I don't want to have these type of arguments anymore. I don't want to end up having a bad night, over something so small. Later on, my friend and her boyfriend will be okay. They will make up. The only result out of this, was just a bad night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Relationships are filled with little arguments like this, and are they really worth it? No, they are not. So, why have them? I most&amp;nbsp;certainly know that I have some personal changes to make. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;My advice to other girls AND, especially to myself is: CHILL THE F*CK OUT!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;I have made mistakes like this, but I know I don't want to make them anymore. I love my life and there's nothing I would like to change. I am very grateful for everything I have and for everyone that's in my life. From now on, I will show more appreciation, have more understanding and will try to be more patient.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nQ-Kv26VjM0/TaYMzxVllLI/AAAAAAAAAKk/6nX5H2J5bvM/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nQ-Kv26VjM0/TaYMzxVllLI/AAAAAAAAAKk/6nX5H2J5bvM/s320/photo.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4890184883268600757-4227461082349499061?l=xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U0CGsw6h60k' title='Relationships Problems'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/feeds/4227461082349499061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4890184883268600757&amp;postID=4227461082349499061' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/4227461082349499061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/4227461082349499061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/2011/04/relationships.html' title='Relationships Problems'/><author><name>YalenaZuluaga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15087074165937140223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JC2fjOhY3w4/TaUs-o8N4oI/AAAAAAAAAKA/_Ly1wnRGlOE/s220/37639_112771242105899_100984236617933_77342_3510232_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nQ-Kv26VjM0/TaYMzxVllLI/AAAAAAAAAKk/6nX5H2J5bvM/s72-c/photo.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890184883268600757.post-3200657591850460677</id><published>2009-08-10T01:31:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T08:02:46.162+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/lfujL39TYxQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lfujL39TYxQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Someday (I will understand) By Britney Spears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing seems to be the way&lt;br /&gt;That it used to&lt;br /&gt;Everything seems shallow&lt;br /&gt;God give me truth&lt;br /&gt;In me&lt;br /&gt;And tell me somebody is watching&lt;br /&gt;Over me&lt;br /&gt;And that is all I'm praying is that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday I will understand&lt;br /&gt;In God's whole plan&lt;br /&gt;And what he's done to me&lt;br /&gt;Oh but maybe&lt;br /&gt;Someday I will breathe&lt;br /&gt;And I'll finally see&lt;br /&gt;I'll see it all in my baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you run too fast my dear&lt;br /&gt;Why don't you stop?&lt;br /&gt;Just stop and listen to your tears&lt;br /&gt;They're all you've got&lt;br /&gt;It's in you&lt;br /&gt;You see somebody is watching&lt;br /&gt;Over you&lt;br /&gt;And that is all I'm praying is that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday you will understand&lt;br /&gt;In God's whole plan&lt;br /&gt;And what he does to you&lt;br /&gt;Oh but maybe&lt;br /&gt;Someday you will breathe&lt;br /&gt;And you'll finally see&lt;br /&gt;You'll see it all in your baby&lt;br /&gt;You'll see it all in your baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No moment&lt;br /&gt;Will be more true&lt;br /&gt;Than the moment&lt;br /&gt;I look at you&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's in you&lt;br /&gt;You see somebody is watching&lt;br /&gt;Over you&lt;br /&gt;And that is all I'm praying is that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday you will understand&lt;br /&gt;In God's whole plan&lt;br /&gt;And what he does to you&lt;br /&gt;Oh but maybe&lt;br /&gt;Someday you will breathe&lt;br /&gt;And you'll finally see&lt;br /&gt;You'll see it all in your baby&lt;br /&gt;You'll see it all in your baby&lt;br /&gt;You'll see it all in your baby&lt;br /&gt;You'll see it all in your baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4890184883268600757-3200657591850460677?l=xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/feeds/3200657591850460677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4890184883268600757&amp;postID=3200657591850460677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/3200657591850460677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/3200657591850460677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/2009/08/nothing-seems-to-be-way-that-it-used-to.html' title=''/><author><name>YalenaZuluaga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15087074165937140223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JC2fjOhY3w4/TaUs-o8N4oI/AAAAAAAAAKA/_Ly1wnRGlOE/s220/37639_112771242105899_100984236617933_77342_3510232_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890184883268600757.post-4292586864745354079</id><published>2009-08-09T06:35:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T07:46:39.178+08:00</updated><title type='text'>From my heart to yours...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Here I am, restless in my bed again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Wondering if I ever cross your busy mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Wondering if the sight of your face will ever light up my eyes again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;I am afraid of losing you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Afraid that I will never touch you again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;I miss the memories we had.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;How we made love everyday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;After the bedroom light goes off,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;And I’m left lying in the dark,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Thinking about your parting words,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;And pondering the reasons why.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;It is then, that in the dark silence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;The flood of tears start to break,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;For tears are the silent words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;That a broken heart can’t express.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;If in dreams I could still have you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;If in dreams I could still hold you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;If in dreams there could still just be me and you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;If in dreams your promises could be true,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;If in dreams you didn't find someone new.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Then I won't live in reality if it means living without you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;If in dreams you would always stay,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;If in dreams, beside you I still could lay,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;If in dreams nothing could come our way,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Then I won't ask for reality if reality means pain...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;If in dreams I could still feel your kiss,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;If in dreams you would treasure our memories,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;If in dreams it would be me that you need,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Then let me keep on dreaming if reality means tears...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;If in dreams we could have what we had,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;If in dreams we would never be apart,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Then in dreams I will live because reality hurts so bad...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;If in dreams we could last a lifetime,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;If in dreams I could turn back the hands of time,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Let me live in dreams, if reality is just all these.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zmt00iXBZu4/Sn4L_mNXCCI/AAAAAAAAAJo/RjRWWVisplc/s1600-h/pic006.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4890184883268600757-4292586864745354079?l=xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/feeds/4292586864745354079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4890184883268600757&amp;postID=4292586864745354079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/4292586864745354079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/4292586864745354079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/2009/08/from-my-heart-to-yours.html' title='From my heart to yours...'/><author><name>YalenaZuluaga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15087074165937140223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JC2fjOhY3w4/TaUs-o8N4oI/AAAAAAAAAKA/_Ly1wnRGlOE/s220/37639_112771242105899_100984236617933_77342_3510232_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890184883268600757.post-2791090497867616491</id><published>2009-07-24T05:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T05:42:49.139+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;It's time to update my blog!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I'ma start writing on it more often, promise :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Tomorrow is my birthday, another year of life...&lt;br /&gt;And ima start it with this qoute for you all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;"I hope your dreams take you... to the corners of your smiles, to the highest of your hopes, to the windows of your opportunities, and to the most special places your heart has ever known"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zmt00iXBZu4/SmjY-hFpomI/AAAAAAAAAJg/iBEgAQSnAbw/s1600-h/HPIM0308.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361773924930134626" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zmt00iXBZu4/SmjY-hFpomI/AAAAAAAAAJg/iBEgAQSnAbw/s320/HPIM0308.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&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/4890184883268600757-2791090497867616491?l=xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/feeds/2791090497867616491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4890184883268600757&amp;postID=2791090497867616491' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/2791090497867616491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/2791090497867616491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/2009/07/its-time-to-update-my-blog-ima-start.html' title=''/><author><name>YalenaZuluaga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15087074165937140223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JC2fjOhY3w4/TaUs-o8N4oI/AAAAAAAAAKA/_Ly1wnRGlOE/s220/37639_112771242105899_100984236617933_77342_3510232_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zmt00iXBZu4/SmjY-hFpomI/AAAAAAAAAJg/iBEgAQSnAbw/s72-c/HPIM0308.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890184883268600757.post-4430887102826101954</id><published>2008-09-07T21:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T21:18:42.431+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Money&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Money can buy a house, but not a home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Money can buy  a watch, but not time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Money can buy a bed, but not dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Money can buy a book, but not knowledge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Money can pay a doctor, but it can't buy health.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Money can buy a business position, but not respect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Money can buy blood, but not life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Money can buy &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;SEX&lt;/span&gt;, but not &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4890184883268600757-4430887102826101954?l=xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/feeds/4430887102826101954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4890184883268600757&amp;postID=4430887102826101954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/4430887102826101954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/4430887102826101954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/2008/09/money-money-can-buy-house-but-not-home.html' title=''/><author><name>YalenaZuluaga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15087074165937140223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JC2fjOhY3w4/TaUs-o8N4oI/AAAAAAAAAKA/_Ly1wnRGlOE/s220/37639_112771242105899_100984236617933_77342_3510232_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890184883268600757.post-3522365986752450173</id><published>2008-08-26T20:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T21:00:44.627+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zmt00iXBZu4/SLP-XsdeNEI/AAAAAAAAAGU/7tUtzN4yJ-c/s1600-h/2eW9nv036848-02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238810474587239490" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zmt00iXBZu4/SLP-XsdeNEI/AAAAAAAAAGU/7tUtzN4yJ-c/s320/2eW9nv036848-02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I miss you...  :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4890184883268600757-3522365986752450173?l=xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/feeds/3522365986752450173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4890184883268600757&amp;postID=3522365986752450173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/3522365986752450173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/3522365986752450173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-miss-you.html' title=''/><author><name>YalenaZuluaga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15087074165937140223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JC2fjOhY3w4/TaUs-o8N4oI/AAAAAAAAAKA/_Ly1wnRGlOE/s220/37639_112771242105899_100984236617933_77342_3510232_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zmt00iXBZu4/SLP-XsdeNEI/AAAAAAAAAGU/7tUtzN4yJ-c/s72-c/2eW9nv036848-02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890184883268600757.post-2522858634851204926</id><published>2008-08-14T23:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T23:55:14.641+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;It's sad when people you know,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;become people you knew.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;When you can walk right pass someone,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;like they were never a big part of your life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;How you used to be able to talk for hours, and now,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;you can barely look at them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;It's sad how times can change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4890184883268600757-2522858634851204926?l=xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/feeds/2522858634851204926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4890184883268600757&amp;postID=2522858634851204926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/2522858634851204926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/2522858634851204926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/2008/08/its-sad-when-people-you-know-become.html' title=''/><author><name>YalenaZuluaga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15087074165937140223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JC2fjOhY3w4/TaUs-o8N4oI/AAAAAAAAAKA/_Ly1wnRGlOE/s220/37639_112771242105899_100984236617933_77342_3510232_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890184883268600757.post-6680637663503358771</id><published>2008-08-12T22:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T02:17:11.546+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Dedicated to all my Superwoman friends. I lurbe you all &lt;3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Zmt00iXBZu4/SKcZL86X4VI/AAAAAAAAAGM/Htb01Ke61LE/s1600-h/superwoman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235180784961708370" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Zmt00iXBZu4/SKcZL86X4VI/AAAAAAAAAGM/Htb01Ke61LE/s320/superwoman.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Superwoman by Alicia Keys &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Everywhere I'm turning &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Nothing seems complete &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;stand up and I'm searching &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;For the better part of me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I hang my head from sorrow &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Slave to humanity &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I wear it on my shoulders &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Gotta find the strength in me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Cause I am a Superwoman &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Yes I am &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Yes she is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Still when I'm a mess &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I still put on a vest &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;With an S on my chest &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Oh yes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I'm a Superwoman &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;For all the mothers fighting &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;For better days to come &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;And all my women, all my women sitting here trying &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;To come home before the sun &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;And all my sisters &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Coming together &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Say yes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I will &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Yes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I can &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Cause I am a Superwoman &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Yes I am &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Yes she is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Still when I'm a mess &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I still put on a vest &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;With an S on my chest &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Oh yes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I'm a Superwoman &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;When I'm breaking down &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;And I can't be found &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;And I start to get weak &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Cause no one knows &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Me underneath these clothes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;But I can fly We can fly, Oooohh &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Cause I am a Superwoman &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Yes I am &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Yes she is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Still when I'm a mess &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I still put on a vest &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;With an S on my chest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Oh yes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I'm a Superwoman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&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/4890184883268600757-6680637663503358771?l=xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/feeds/6680637663503358771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4890184883268600757&amp;postID=6680637663503358771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/6680637663503358771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/6680637663503358771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/2008/08/dedicated-to-all-my-superwoman-friends.html' title=''/><author><name>YalenaZuluaga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15087074165937140223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JC2fjOhY3w4/TaUs-o8N4oI/AAAAAAAAAKA/_Ly1wnRGlOE/s220/37639_112771242105899_100984236617933_77342_3510232_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Zmt00iXBZu4/SKcZL86X4VI/AAAAAAAAAGM/Htb01Ke61LE/s72-c/superwoman.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890184883268600757.post-8172048489542120475</id><published>2008-07-10T01:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T02:13:11.471+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;We Were Born Guilty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I was born guilty,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;guilty of being a woman,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;guilty to the eyes of men,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;guilty to the eyes of other women.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I was born a woman,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;to love with all my heart,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;to give more than what i can,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;to care for everyone,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;to give life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I am guilty to the eyes of men,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;for being what they can't have,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;for being inferior to their eyes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;for being able to expect more of myself,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;for being more than what we used to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I am guilty to other women,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;for their son to love me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;for their husband to look at me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;for not being what they want me to be,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;for being another woman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;We were born guilty,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;because men made us this way,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;because men digraced us from the beginning,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;because men know we are capable of more,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;because men can not accept competition,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;because men created society and,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;society made us guilty,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;guilty of being born a woman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4890184883268600757-8172048489542120475?l=xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/feeds/8172048489542120475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4890184883268600757&amp;postID=8172048489542120475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/8172048489542120475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/8172048489542120475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/2008/07/we-were-born-guilty.html' title=''/><author><name>YalenaZuluaga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15087074165937140223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JC2fjOhY3w4/TaUs-o8N4oI/AAAAAAAAAKA/_Ly1wnRGlOE/s220/37639_112771242105899_100984236617933_77342_3510232_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890184883268600757.post-384741840922265932</id><published>2008-06-15T23:36:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T00:27:26.694+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Bestfriend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Arms are for hugging.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Boys are for kissing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Sluts are for dissing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;And BESTFRIENDS are for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;when the boy is kissing the slut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;and all you really need is a HUG.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;The most amazing feeling in life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;It can give you happiness and strength.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;It can destroy in tiny little invisible pieces your heart,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;But It can also make it revive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Reflection of the day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;There are things in life you don't plan. Feelings you don't expect to feel. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;People you leave behind because they're not good enough to be in your future. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;There are things that are supposed to bring you together, but instead, they pull you apart. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Friends that will disappoint you and friends that are always gonna be there for you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Experiences you will have to go through to understand the meaning of life, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;or to truly appreciate what you have got, instead of wishing for more you don't need. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Family will always be there no matter what, they will support you, understand you, love you, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;care for you and they are the ones you can always lean on when everyone else seem to have forgotten about you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Pain, a feeling we always try to avoid, but it is always chasing us. Sometimes it comes so strong, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;you think it can't get worse. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Love will always be in the air, sometimes it will hurt, devaste, destroy or ruin you, but at some point you will find that special someone somewhere waiting for you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Possibilities, there are billions of them in the world, you just have to be brave enough to catch one, hold on tight and do not let go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Do not take someone for granted, hold every person close to your heart, you might wake up one day and realise you lost a diamond, while you were too busy collecting stones.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Do not take life so seriously, after all, nobody comes out of it alive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Zmt00iXBZu4/SFVAm66Tj-I/AAAAAAAAAGE/sHtxIl2S8PQ/s1600-h/heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&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/4890184883268600757-384741840922265932?l=xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/feeds/384741840922265932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4890184883268600757&amp;postID=384741840922265932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/384741840922265932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/384741840922265932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/2008/06/bestfriend.html' title=''/><author><name>YalenaZuluaga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15087074165937140223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JC2fjOhY3w4/TaUs-o8N4oI/AAAAAAAAAKA/_Ly1wnRGlOE/s220/37639_112771242105899_100984236617933_77342_3510232_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890184883268600757.post-2957317806018935663</id><published>2008-06-12T22:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T13:06:15.960+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Zmt00iXBZu4/SFH_bwiq8kI/AAAAAAAAAF8/ExtuLMvaVzk/s1600-h/princess.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211227096196248130" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Zmt00iXBZu4/SFH_bwiq8kI/AAAAAAAAAF8/ExtuLMvaVzk/s320/princess.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I'm selfish, Impatient, and a little insecure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I make mistakes, I'm outta control,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;and a times, hard to handle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;But if you cant handle me at my worst,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4890184883268600757-2957317806018935663?l=xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/feeds/2957317806018935663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4890184883268600757&amp;postID=2957317806018935663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/2957317806018935663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/2957317806018935663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/2008/06/im-selfish-impatient-and-little.html' title=''/><author><name>YalenaZuluaga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15087074165937140223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JC2fjOhY3w4/TaUs-o8N4oI/AAAAAAAAAKA/_Ly1wnRGlOE/s220/37639_112771242105899_100984236617933_77342_3510232_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Zmt00iXBZu4/SFH_bwiq8kI/AAAAAAAAAF8/ExtuLMvaVzk/s72-c/princess.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890184883268600757.post-3720650437731361017</id><published>2008-06-08T18:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T18:57:34.022+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I believe that everything happens for a reason.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;People change so that you can learn to let go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Things go wrong so you appreciate them,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;because when they're right you believe less.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;You eventually learn to trust no one but yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;And sometimes good things fall apart, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;so better things can fall together.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Zmt00iXBZu4/SEu66W-hZEI/AAAAAAAAAF0/4xRpG0IpRL8/s1600-h/lily-bw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209462905747104834" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Zmt00iXBZu4/SEu66W-hZEI/AAAAAAAAAF0/4xRpG0IpRL8/s320/lily-bw.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/4890184883268600757-3720650437731361017?l=xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/feeds/3720650437731361017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4890184883268600757&amp;postID=3720650437731361017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/3720650437731361017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/3720650437731361017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-believe-that-everything-happens-for.html' title=''/><author><name>YalenaZuluaga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15087074165937140223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JC2fjOhY3w4/TaUs-o8N4oI/AAAAAAAAAKA/_Ly1wnRGlOE/s220/37639_112771242105899_100984236617933_77342_3510232_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Zmt00iXBZu4/SEu66W-hZEI/AAAAAAAAAF0/4xRpG0IpRL8/s72-c/lily-bw.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890184883268600757.post-8760173656831396609</id><published>2008-06-04T08:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T11:00:35.010+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yalena</title><content type='html'>Dear Yalena,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want us to be friends until all our hairs are silver-gray and we have enough memories to drown a cruise ship. I have heard that one should be able to count ones true friends on ones fingers. I’ve often had delusions about the life-line of many of my friendships which I now call acquaintances. Sometimes thinking that they would each last forever. But realistically not all are meant to be and some simply not strong enough to weather whatever difficulties that occur. To me the importance of having many friends has just become less and less important as I’ve grown older and I’m no longer concerned with the number of friends I have but rather the quality of the friendships build. To me it doesn’t matter who came first and who I called my first best friend. What matters is who has stayed close to me through the thick and thin, who has stayed with me until the end. I think that a true friend is someone who is happy and proud of your accomplishments and will always share with your joys as well as your sorrows.  This last year I have learned that distance is not a hindrance to a friendship if you really treasure it. It’s important that both keep an effort 2 keep in touch and update each other on what’s going on in eachotherz lives, no detail being insignificant. Rumor has it that you seldom find true friends but if your lucky enough to be blessed with just one or two hold on to them because duh they are hard to find. Therefore my beautiful thoughtful friend I’m holding onto u because until now I have never meet anyone that gets me or understands me like you do.&lt;br /&gt;The whole point of having a blog I guess is so that people can catch up with your daily triumphs.  Give them a little insight into the way your mind works and let them view your progress. Namely it’s for me to check up on you lol. I know you just had a bad day and we both know who is to blame but even if they don’t mean to emotionally tear us apart they often do so unknowingly. I know what your going through right now and you know my thoughts and I guess letting go of those nostalgic memories is sometimes easier said than done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, god knows why, I was thinking about how easy it is for kids to get along and play with each other without having to give a shit about who the other person is, as long as they function enough to play. Sometimes I wish that on myself only to simplify things. But then there would be no great appreciation for real friendship, basically what I’m saying is that I’m glad that your not always functioning like the other kids which makes you special in my book. You’re my angel on earth and I love you all the way to the moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love u always xxxx Bettina&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4890184883268600757-8760173656831396609?l=xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/feeds/8760173656831396609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4890184883268600757&amp;postID=8760173656831396609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/8760173656831396609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4890184883268600757/posts/default/8760173656831396609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xyalenazuluagax.blogspot.com/2008/06/yalena.html' title='Yalena'/><author><name>YalenaZuluaga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15087074165937140223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JC2fjOhY3w4/TaUs-o8N4oI/AAAAAAAAAKA/_Ly1wnRGlOE/s220/37639_112771242105899_100984236617933_77342_3510232_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
