<?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-8908963</id><updated>2011-08-07T21:05:57.647+08:00</updated><title type='text'>in the light</title><subtitle type='html'>when God touches our lives, it brings about spiritual renewal... and it's up to us whether we take the opportunity or we take another route... but, i chose to live... living in the light...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8908963.post-1858181333613801028</id><published>2009-03-12T00:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T00:29:26.055+08:00</updated><title type='text'>blogging in the middle of the night...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;blogging in the middle of the night...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;t'was the midnight of thursday... as i was trying out this new laptop, i came across something...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;err...nope, it's like this thing that's been running through my mind has been going on for several days, thankfully, not continuous...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;really, frankly, to tell you the truth, dear reader, im really at a surreal state right now... weird as it may seem, i know now what really needs to be done...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;even up to today, my dear reader, i suck at this thing called forgiveness... up to now, i can't even forgive myself... sh*t, i thought i have forgiven myself for liking someone in the past... but i know now that that did not even materialized...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;for truth's sake, i am obsessed with you... i am really really obsessed with you... for reasons i don't know, for reason that i can't even comprehend... look, i don't wanna say the word 'love' because i can't even say i "love" you because i know deep down in my heart that i long for you every single minute knowing that this obsession cannot be love until i learn the true meaning of love and loving...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;"you keep me preoccupied..." as one of my songs say, your persistent memory, the softness of your hand, the warmth of each touch we had, hand in hand... the simple words and messages... man, why can't i get over being obsessed with you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;sabi ko dati sa kaibigan ko, "sumuko na ako kay..." pero little did i know that i was only prolonging the agony, postponing what was inside my heart and still is right now... i know you will never read this... but i really hope against hope itself that you would take time to read this...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;i have not felt like this before in my entire life...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;in short, i miss you so bad...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;and i suck at forgiving myself for not having the courage to tell you what i really feel...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;i really miss you... may God bless you always... EE:(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-1858181333613801028?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/1858181333613801028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=1858181333613801028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/1858181333613801028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/1858181333613801028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2009/03/blogging-in-middle-of-night.html' title='blogging in the middle of the night...'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-360410008579610841</id><published>2009-03-03T19:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T19:57:52.779+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And I'll Be Waiting - Kyle Michael M. Gregorio</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;This new song has a "punk" feel to it. One of my punk roots songs. Made on 23rd of December 2005, this one was really about reminiscing old feelings, and waiting for that special person amidst all hardships. Christmas was around the corner that time and this really hit the spot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Sitting at home I'm writing something new&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; I feel so sick I wanna be with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; Keep thinking this would be a lonely day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; I feel so weak, don't wanna feel this way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; Inspiration has gone dry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; This love can't be denied&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; You're all i've been waiting to drop by&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; Those were the times that we had lived and those&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; Were better days that we should cherish most&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; Of all the days, the years are slowly fading&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; And I'll be waiting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; These are the times that I have bled and these&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; Are lonely days that I can't stand to live&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; The times, the years, the memories are fading&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; And I'll be waiting&lt;/span&gt;&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/8908963-360410008579610841?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/360410008579610841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=360410008579610841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/360410008579610841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/360410008579610841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2009/03/and-ill-be-waiting-kyle-michael-m.html' title='And I&apos;ll Be Waiting - Kyle Michael M. Gregorio'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-1912921070193725054</id><published>2009-02-24T22:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T22:04:03.565+08:00</updated><title type='text'>PLAIN WHITE T'S - 1,2,3,4</title><content type='html'>1-2-1-2-3-4&lt;br /&gt;Give me more loving than I’ve ever had&lt;br /&gt;Make me feel better when I’m feeling sad&lt;br /&gt;Tell me I’m special even though I know I’m not&lt;br /&gt;Make me feel good when I hurt so bad&lt;br /&gt;Barely getting mad&lt;br /&gt;I’m so glad I found you&lt;br /&gt;I love being around you&lt;br /&gt;You make it easy&lt;br /&gt;Its as easy as 1-2-1-2-3-4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There’s only one thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To Do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Three words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;For you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(I love you) I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There’s only one way to say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Those three words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;That’s what I’ll do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(I love you) I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me more loving from the very start&lt;br /&gt;Piece me back together when I fall apart&lt;br /&gt;Tell me things you never even tell your closest friends&lt;br /&gt;Make me feel good when I hurt so bad&lt;br /&gt;You’re the best that I’ve had&lt;br /&gt;And I’m so glad I found you&lt;br /&gt;I love being around you&lt;br /&gt;You make it easy&lt;br /&gt;It’s easy as 1-2-1-2-3-4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There’s only one thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To Do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Three words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;For you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(I love you) I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There’s only one way to say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Those three words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;That’s what I’ll do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(I love you) I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(I love you) I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You make it easy&lt;br /&gt;It’s easy as 1 2 1 2 3 4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There’s only one thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To Do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Three words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;For you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(I love you) I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There’s only one way to say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Those three words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;That’s what I’ll do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(I love you) I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(I love you) I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1-2-3-4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(I love you) I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-1912921070193725054?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/1912921070193725054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=1912921070193725054' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/1912921070193725054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/1912921070193725054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2009/02/plain-white-ts-1234.html' title='PLAIN WHITE T&apos;S - 1,2,3,4'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-7496838788373849624</id><published>2009-02-24T09:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T09:46:22.290+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rebirth of Zgomilo</title><content type='html'>The Rebirth of Zgomilo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This account is back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A new life. A big challenge. A nice piece of work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All thanks to our Lord and Savior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life as we know it is about to change, and I want you to share these feelings with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not written a piece of my mind for a long time now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bright as days of old, as new things are coming up to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the rebirth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is our time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is say go milo...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-7496838788373849624?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/7496838788373849624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=7496838788373849624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/7496838788373849624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/7496838788373849624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2009/02/rebirth-of-zgomilo.html' title='The Rebirth of Zgomilo'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-115937504265053963</id><published>2006-09-28T00:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T00:37:22.653+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When</title><content type='html'>When?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When will I grow up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When will I be what I want myself to be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When will I see you again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When will all of these be answered?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that my growth as a person has slowed down. I refused to learn. But, I know that I just need some motivation. I am beginning to love what I hated, and I'm happy that I am beginning to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have my addictions, and I want to remove them. I'm happy I've been resisting C2 lemon teas, softdrinks, and alcoholic beverages. Kaya nga pag nagkakainuman dito sa bahay, umiiwas na ako. But I have more addictions, and I want to cut down on those.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can see the sun coming up the horizon," a line from an Angels and Airwaves song. It's 10:19pm, I don't see the sun, but I believe that the sun is shining over this world, and, soon, it'll come up on my horizon. There's a blue sky, ika nga ng Hale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know love has been cruel to me. With the relationships I had and failed, I know now what I don't want. At least I have a hint as to what I want, not exactly what I want, but a hint to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to see the sun rise from the east at a whitesand beach with the clearest sky or little cirrus clouds with coconut trees tall as a two-storey building, just like Catanduanes. I love that place, as close as I can be with nature, as close as I can be with the one I love. I wish she could be with me there. When will I get to live that dream?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as the questions go, I want to answer them now, but things must first come to pass before I could answer them. The more I want to grow up, the more it'll elude me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have my own plague of problems and I want to treat the plague that has engulfed my whole being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry to all that I have hurt. To my bandmates, the ones I have handpicked but didn't made it, para sa inyo yung performance ko nung Grounded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If love's a word that you say, then say it. I will listen." Start The Machine -&lt;br /&gt;Angels and Airwaves&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-115937504265053963?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/115937504265053963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=115937504265053963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/115937504265053963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/115937504265053963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2006/09/when.html' title='When'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-115937476979180615</id><published>2006-09-28T00:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T00:32:49.803+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You'll Pick Me Up (I Hope)</title><content type='html'>In this blog, I'll mention some lines from songs by the band Angels and Airwaves. I'm a big fan of blink-182. Since the latter is in an indefinite "hiatus," as they would like to call it, and the former is the offspring of Tom DeLonge, blink-182's electric (and eccentric) guitarist, I became fond of AVA's music. (AVA is the abbreviation of Angels and Airwaves, as the said band would like it to be abbreviated.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you’re gonna to fall, Ill let you know that I will pick you up like you for I," Angels and Airwaves on the song "The Adventure". That's what I'll do. I'll pick her up, and she'll do the same for me. I hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I cannot live, I can’t breathe unless you do this with me," again from "The Adventure." A little exaggerated but, still, it works. I wouldn't want to live without her. I wouldn't be like this if not for her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Small things make big differences. While I was in a state of recovery from the downward spiral that I was in, I became more oriented with what I would want to be. And I want to be with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm simple, and I want simple things. Small things mean a lot to me. Like somebody to hold on to. I have no other person in mind that I would want to hold on to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Please stay until I'm gone. I'm here. Hold on to me. I'm right here... waiting..." "Not Now" was one of blink-182's last singles before entering the "hiatus." I would really want to see them back in action again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm here. Hold on to me. I'm right here... waiting... I'm right here, waiting for you. It's 11:22pm, twenty-seventh of September 2006. Almost a month has passed since you came into my life again, and I want you to stay, until I'm gone. And when I fall, I hope you'll pick me up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-115937476979180615?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/115937476979180615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=115937476979180615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/115937476979180615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/115937476979180615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2006/09/youll-pick-me-up-i-hope.html' title='You&apos;ll Pick Me Up (I Hope)'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-114707495174432156</id><published>2006-05-08T15:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T15:55:51.756+08:00</updated><title type='text'>all too late</title><content type='html'>It's all too much for me to handle&lt;br /&gt;What can i do to make you wonder?&lt;br /&gt;I fear because i want you so bad&lt;br /&gt;I wish i didn't let you go but now it's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all too late&lt;br /&gt;i can't bring back the days, the moments&lt;br /&gt;hope you'd stayed&lt;br /&gt;but now i can't bring back the way we were&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i still keep your letter for me&lt;br /&gt;the only thing that reminds me of past&lt;br /&gt;happiness and i guess it's time for me to go&lt;br /&gt;maybe not, maybe so then it's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all too late&lt;br /&gt;i can't bring back the days, the moments&lt;br /&gt;hope you'd stayed&lt;br /&gt;but now i can't bring back the way you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;smiled at me when we were together&lt;br /&gt;you said you love me over and over&lt;br /&gt;all i know is i'm so stupid to let it go to waste&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it all too late?&lt;br /&gt;can i bring back the days, the moments&lt;br /&gt;would you stay&lt;br /&gt;'cause this time i know that i can be what you want me to be&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-114707495174432156?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/114707495174432156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=114707495174432156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/114707495174432156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/114707495174432156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2006/05/all-too-late.html' title='all too late'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-112911054651104787</id><published>2005-10-12T17:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T17:58:13.083+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 1012 version 2</title><content type='html'>This bizarre feeling puts me in a trance&lt;br /&gt;This is weird, my first reaction to love.&lt;br /&gt;There she went, I failed to grab one more chance&lt;br /&gt;Should I cry or laugh it off, smile or sob?&lt;br /&gt;Crying like girls means I’m a sissy lad&lt;br /&gt;Laughing it off means I’m a lunatic&lt;br /&gt;Smiling is awkward, but does not feel bad&lt;br /&gt;Sobbing is okay, but makes me feel sick.&lt;br /&gt;There she went, gentle like a breeze, unarmed&lt;br /&gt;I was reluctant to say what I feel&lt;br /&gt;She passed by but I was really alarmed&lt;br /&gt;“Whoa! She smiled at me! Could all this be real?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a stone, I froze, cannot speak nor sway.&lt;br /&gt;But I smiled, hoping she felt the same way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-112911054651104787?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/112911054651104787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=112911054651104787' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/112911054651104787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/112911054651104787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2005/10/sonnet-1012-version-2.html' title='Sonnet 1012 version 2'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8908963.post-112790385577971308</id><published>2005-09-28T18:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T18:37:35.786+08:00</updated><title type='text'>peter pandesal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;galing eskwela, pagod na naman...&lt;br /&gt;hinihintay si peter pan...&lt;br /&gt;lilipad papuntang buwan...&lt;br /&gt;sisigaw kami ng...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;peter pan!!! (peter pandesal)&lt;br /&gt;peter pan!!! (peter pandesal)&lt;br /&gt;peter pan!!! (peter pandesal)&lt;br /&gt;peter pan!!! (peter pandesal)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;may meeting mga teachers&lt;br /&gt;basag na ang atomizer&lt;br /&gt;anjan na siya, my Curly Tops&lt;br /&gt;ang baho ko, tulong!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;peter pan!!! (peter pandesal)&lt;br /&gt;peter pan!!! (peter pandesal)&lt;br /&gt;peter pan!!! (peter pandesal)&lt;br /&gt;peter pan!!! (peter pandesal)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pano na to? baka magbreak kami nito...&lt;br /&gt;pano na to? ang baho baho baho ko!&lt;br /&gt;pano na to? wala pang pabango!&lt;br /&gt;pano na to? peter pan, tulong!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;peter pan!!! (peter pandesal)&lt;br /&gt;peter pan!!! (peter pandesal)&lt;br /&gt;peter pan!!! (peter pandesal)&lt;br /&gt;peter pan!!! (peter pandesal)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-112790385577971308?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/112790385577971308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=112790385577971308' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/112790385577971308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/112790385577971308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2005/09/peter-pandesal.html' title='peter pandesal'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-112584625180303022</id><published>2005-09-04T23:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-04T23:04:11.813+08:00</updated><title type='text'>simple</title><content type='html'>Simple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a typical school day. Not much fuss about school projects and boring assignments in subjects such as Physics, Analytic Geometry, or Mathematics.&lt;br /&gt;Around eight thirty in the morning, the time in between subjects Physics and Filipino, I tried to go near the window to view the school’s ‘backyard’ (we are on the second floor of the L-shaped building so it’s somewhat understandable that I had a view from above). I still remember the range of vehicles; cars, pick-up trucks, SUVs, AUVs, from these expensive cars (I think are family vehicles because parents would drive their children to school) to jeepneys, FXs, and Elf trucks that serve as school service buses for children who can’t afford to buy their own vehicles (maybe the school’s location is not along the way to the workplace of parents, that’s why some parents let their children ride school buses).&lt;br /&gt;Somewhat contrast to the view I elaborated earlier, I saw growing four feet tall grass along the side of the building. It was covering a large part of the ‘backyard,’ making parking a big pain in the neck for vehicle drivers. That’s why three or four months before that day, these grasses were trimmed down and burned. At first, I didn’t care about these grasses and I felt no remorse when they brought the grasses down.&lt;br /&gt;But that was then. The grasses were growing back, like hair in a young man’s head two months after skinning his head bald. At that moment, in that day, that bright and windy day, the grasses swayed and moved rhythmically like dancers who have their own song to move to. While swaying and making a continuous rustling sound, the dewdrops scattered on the face of each leaf reflected the sunlight. Thus, attractive rainbow colors were produced, somewhat inviting, beckoning me to be with them. Together with the sound and visual pleasure I experienced, the moment was embossed in my mind till this present day.&lt;br /&gt;Then, the sound of the bell, the sound of the engines and honking of the vehicles, brought me back to reality. Then, I realized. What if those rich people who ride in expensive vehicles, those people who eats more than thrice in a day, those people who lives, breathes, and sleeps with air conditioner on, those people whose expectations and happiness are not always fulfilled, those rich people appreciate simple beauty?&lt;br /&gt;I know nowadays people are so hard to please. That’s because they have high expectations and low self-esteems. They work and work (and work some more) and they do not ask themselves, ‘…is this fulfilling? Do I enjoy what I do? Does my work make me happy?’ Again, if they could only appreciate simple things, then they wouldn’t be so miserable.&lt;br /&gt;People tend to wear sleek new clothes to fit in the new fashion fads. Some people do not stick to one hair style. Guys with long hair put tons of hair gel for their hair to stay fixed. Girls would sometimes spray perfume and after a minute of smelling their own scents and thinking that the scent they sprayed has already evaporated into thin air, would spray some more. Again, if they could only appreciate simplicity, then they wouldn’t be so snobbish and annoying.&lt;br /&gt;Seated politicians are very powerful people. They have the ability to play with the hearts and minds of the masses. While playing with the emotions of their supporters, these politicians turn their backs, hide in the cloak of deceit, and execute their own hidden agendas using the taxes paid by these people who support them. Again, if these crooked politicians would just live simple lives and practice truthfulness and simplicity, they would not be corrupt and unjust.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, contentment is not in the nature of humans. But, isn’t happiness one of our capabilities? Yes, we are not contented with what material possessions we have. But, can’t we be happy with what we experience in our lives? Yes, we are not pleased with all the chaos in our country today, this deplorable state of living. But, can’t we look at the brighter side of the picture and see that the sun will surely rise tomorrow?&lt;br /&gt;The grasses were absolutely striking. Although inanimate, they moved animatedly to a rhythm of simplicity. Although inanimate, they sounded like a haunting breeze that blows the resonance of simplicity. If only we could learn to appreciate these simple things, then we will experience true happiness. Simple isn’t it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-112584625180303022?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/112584625180303022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=112584625180303022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/112584625180303022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/112584625180303022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2005/09/simple.html' title='simple'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-112116621841059144</id><published>2005-07-12T19:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T19:03:38.416+08:00</updated><title type='text'>NIGHT AND DAY - kyle michael gregorio</title><content type='html'>the sun broke out its silence&lt;br /&gt;my heart is beating fast...&lt;br /&gt;the clouds covered the blue sky&lt;br /&gt;my world crushed in a flash...&lt;br /&gt;how do you do this to me?&lt;br /&gt;how can this be?&lt;br /&gt;when you are there, and i am here&lt;br /&gt;will you be there, cause i am here...&lt;br /&gt;for you, for you&lt;br /&gt;the world is something new&lt;br /&gt;yet you do it for the life you knew...&lt;br /&gt;i feel for you&lt;br /&gt;cause i want to start anew, with you...&lt;br /&gt;the sun is gently setting&lt;br /&gt;my heart was crushed inside&lt;br /&gt;yet the moon will shine upon us&lt;br /&gt;breathe in to me new life...&lt;br /&gt;how do you do this to me?&lt;br /&gt;how can this be?&lt;br /&gt;when you are there, and i am here&lt;br /&gt;will you be there, cause i am here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for you, for you&lt;br /&gt;the world is something new&lt;br /&gt;yet you do it for the life you knew...&lt;br /&gt;i feel for you&lt;br /&gt;cause i want to start anew, with you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-112116621841059144?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/112116621841059144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=112116621841059144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/112116621841059144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/112116621841059144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2005/07/night-and-day-kyle-michael-gregorio.html' title='NIGHT AND DAY - kyle michael gregorio'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-111867480276223596</id><published>2005-06-13T22:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T23:00:02.770+08:00</updated><title type='text'>state of the nation part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Press Spokesperson: ...may we please welcome...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Press Spokesperson: ...the president of the republic...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Press Spokesperson: ...mr. kyle michael m. gregorio!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;(the crowd applauded as he walks up the stage in a very masculine way)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;President Gregorio: Thank you Mr. Spokesperson...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;President Gregorio: As we all know, there was a great question that crossed my mind a few years ago... i remember the question being 'what would happen in this republic if we take the great step?' well, the question was answered...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;(the crowd replied with a bigger applause for their president's accomplishment)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;(A few hours of the presidential speech and it is finally done...)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;President Gregorio: It was indeed risky but we must take risks in a bold fist of courage. We stood up to the challenge... We never gave up... Now, we have a new lease of a life... We are building a country from the ashes, we are forming a nation unified by a mission, strengthened by faith in God, and fortified by a hope of a bright future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;This is my country... May I share with you my story, a story filled with mixed emotions... it's time to settle the score... I was a brainy kid in elementary. My classmates thought I was boastful of my accomplishments as a brainy pupil... That's why I became a horrible man. I was mocked, called by names other than what I am named, was degraded, lost my self-confidence, gained few friends... The biggest scar I took then was the fact that someone I admired, someone I looked up to, led the mockery, flamed the name-calling, orchestrated the plot to make my life a living hell. All of this happened when I was young, vulnerable, extremely-sensitive... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;to be continued...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-111867480276223596?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/111867480276223596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=111867480276223596' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/111867480276223596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/111867480276223596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2005/06/state-of-nation-part-1.html' title='state of the nation part 1'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-111860704199885583</id><published>2005-06-13T04:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T04:10:42.003+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Through it all</title><content type='html'>There's nothing more that i should say&lt;br /&gt;Cause nothin's goin', goin' my way&lt;br /&gt;far from over, far from my place&lt;br /&gt;still on my mind, your slap on my face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hopin' you could be mine&lt;br /&gt;wishin' you could be mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If i should cry,&lt;br /&gt;If i should fall,&lt;br /&gt;will you help me through it all?&lt;br /&gt;cause if you should cry,&lt;br /&gt;if you should fall,&lt;br /&gt;i would help you through it all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thinkin' over what's been said&lt;br /&gt;what's been done in the past&lt;br /&gt;to be with you is the greatest prize&lt;br /&gt;to lose you now will bring my hardest cry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And i want to feel you too...&lt;br /&gt;And i want to be with you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If i should cry,&lt;br /&gt;If i should fall,&lt;br /&gt;will you help me through it all?&lt;br /&gt;cause if you should cry,&lt;br /&gt;if you should fall,&lt;br /&gt;i would help you through it all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i should bleed,&lt;br /&gt;scream and crawl,&lt;br /&gt;will you help me through it all&lt;br /&gt;if you should love (me)&lt;br /&gt;if you should fall,&lt;br /&gt;i will help you through it all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;050505&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-111860704199885583?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/111860704199885583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=111860704199885583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/111860704199885583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/111860704199885583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2005/06/through-it-all.html' title='Through it all'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-111859368575056898</id><published>2005-06-13T00:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T00:28:05.753+08:00</updated><title type='text'>fool - kyle michael m. gregorio</title><content type='html'>falling out of love... there goes the fool...&lt;br /&gt;falling out of love... another victim of false love's lies...&lt;br /&gt;falling out of love... and he can't get out of it...&lt;br /&gt;falling out of love... imprisoned in her promises...&lt;br /&gt;falling out of love... wishing love was gone forever...&lt;br /&gt;falling out of love... feelings subsided with each day...&lt;br /&gt;falling out of love... because they can't be together...&lt;br /&gt;falling out of love... because she loves somebody else...&lt;br /&gt;falling out of love... but trust still lives...&lt;br /&gt;falling out of love... and my heart still grieves...&lt;br /&gt;falling out of love... love was lost, but retained yet again...&lt;br /&gt;falling out of love... no, not now...&lt;br /&gt;falling out of love... i'm lost forever...&lt;br /&gt;falling out of love... till you've found me again...&lt;br /&gt;falling out of love?.. no, not now... not now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-111859368575056898?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/111859368575056898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=111859368575056898' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/111859368575056898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/111859368575056898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2005/06/fool-kyle-michael-m-gregorio.html' title='fool - kyle michael m. gregorio'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-110567409522453608</id><published>2005-01-14T11:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-21T12:00:14.516+08:00</updated><title type='text'>walang pamagat</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ano ba ang kailangan kong gawin? Nauubos ang oras ko sa tanong na yan. Ang hirap kasing sagutin eh...&lt;br /&gt;Bakit hindi mo kayang maghintay? Kung totoo ang nararamdaman mo, iparamdam mo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hindi naman kita kakainin ng buhay eh...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ano ba ang hinahanap mo? Sino ba ang kailangan mo? Kakatapos pa lang ng isang sem... ang dami kaagad ng tanong na kailangang sagutin...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bakit kailangan pa nating magkita? Parang hindi mo naman ako nakilala... Nauubos ang oras ko sa pagsagot ng walang kakuwenta-kwentang tanong na hindi naman masasagot. Parang tanga ako dito... Naghihintay sa wala. Pero naghihintay ako kasi totoo ang nararamdaman ko...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Naiinis ako sa inyo. Bakit hindi na lang kayo sumunod? Pwede naman kayong umayon sa kagustuhan ko... Hindi kayo patas... Tama sigurong hindi muna ako naglalalapit sa inyo... Tatahimik na lang ako... Hindi ko muna kayo iistorbohin...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-110567409522453608?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/110567409522453608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=110567409522453608' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/110567409522453608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/110567409522453608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2005/01/walang-pamagat.html' title='walang pamagat'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8908963.post-110451721293036696</id><published>2005-01-01T02:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-01T02:22:09.970+08:00</updated><title type='text'>will you still love me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;It was another night in the park. Clayton saw yet another pair who held each others' hands tight. They both were silenced by the love they both feel for each other. Clayton can't help but stare at the two because he knows he's also one of those who aspire to be in that situation. He saw more couples entering and leaving his sight. He grew more anxious to have himself someone to love.&lt;br /&gt;It was 9 o'clock in the evening. He's still in the park. The murky water from the side of the street splashed in his long trench coat by some Aston Martin car that hurried its way. It didn't even worried Clayton for his coat was water and murk proof. He washed the grime away and continued to walk around the spiral park filled with bushes and not-so-tall trees. the park was also filled with benches. Near the benches were tall posts of incandescent bulbs that lighted up the night.&lt;br /&gt;An hour has passed. Still, the wanderer continued to circle the big park almost two kilometers in circumference. He noticed that the people began to decrease in number. Some of them are going home, but it was a saturday night, so, many of them went to the movies, watching the previously released movie entitled "DEPART" starring Linda Gamblin and Richard O'Donnell. Meter by meter, he walked until he felt tired of what he's doing. He noticed the stupidity he did. He sat on one of the benches and started to hum his favorite song. When he feel sad, he always hums this song to remind him of his dream. His dream to someday live and love a woman and be happy together for all eternity. He hummed "When I Look Into Your Eyes" until he went pass these lines...&lt;br /&gt;We can't stop this feelin and there's nothin i can do cause i see everythin when i look at you...&lt;br /&gt;The lines reminded him that still there is someone who will be everything for him. Those eyes. Those smiles. He was certain. he saw, from a distance, a silhouette. The silhouette&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-110451721293036696?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/110451721293036696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=110451721293036696' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/110451721293036696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/110451721293036696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2005/01/will-you-still-love-me.html' title='will you still love me?'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-110326361888824594</id><published>2004-12-17T14:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-17T14:10:28.503+08:00</updated><title type='text'>&gt;&gt;&gt;how to disconnect&lt;&lt;&lt;</title><content type='html'>&gt;&gt;&gt;how to disconnect&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;panu ba mag-disconnect sa internet???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pindutin mo ung offswitch ng computer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pwede ring iangat mo ung phone nyo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero pano kung ang disconnection...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ay ikaw at ang mga kaibigan mo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hirap noh??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero ako...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kayang kaya ko yan!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;magseseryoso lang ako sa studies...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maglalarong mga pc games...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hindi ako magsasa-sama sa mga activities nila...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;simple, mahirap,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero kayang kaya!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;napansin ko na kanya kanya na tayo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;may mga sari-sariling mga priorities...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;halos wala na tayong oras para sa isa't isa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ung krismas piknik ng natin, konti lang ang mga pumunta...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kagaya ng effort niyo para magka-sama-sama tayo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaunti lang...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;parang wala tayong pinagsamahan ng kalahating taon...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;basta ako...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;di ko malilimutan ang mga times na magkakasama tayo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pwede akong maging tanga at umasa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pwede ring iangat ko na ang phone at papatayin ko na ang computer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...kasi kayo, maraming ibang priorities... kaya ang mga naiiwan... nagtitiis"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-110326361888824594?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/110326361888824594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=110326361888824594' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/110326361888824594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/110326361888824594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2004/12/how-to-disconnect.html' title='&gt;&gt;&gt;how to disconnect&lt;&lt;&lt;'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-110315640192020450</id><published>2004-12-16T08:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-16T08:20:24.336+08:00</updated><title type='text'>tulad ng dati</title><content type='html'>tulad ng dati&lt;br /&gt;walang direksyon&lt;br /&gt;walang buhay&lt;br /&gt;isipin mo na lang&lt;br /&gt;araw-araw mong kakaladkarin&lt;br /&gt;ang katawan mo&lt;br /&gt;mula novaliches&lt;br /&gt;papuntang intramuros&lt;br /&gt;na ang dahilan lang&lt;br /&gt;ay para pumasok&lt;br /&gt;sa paaralan&lt;br /&gt;napakawalang-kwenta&lt;br /&gt;ng buhay ko ngayon&lt;br /&gt;walang dahilan&lt;br /&gt;para mabuhay&lt;br /&gt;mga kaibigan, wala na&lt;br /&gt;mga kaibigang&lt;br /&gt;dapat ay nandiyan&lt;br /&gt;para sa iyo&lt;br /&gt;nandiyan nga sila&lt;br /&gt;pero parang&lt;br /&gt;napipilitan lang sila&lt;br /&gt;MGA WALANG&lt;br /&gt;KWENTANG&lt;br /&gt;KAIBIGAN!!!&lt;br /&gt;ang bigat ng&lt;br /&gt;nararamdaman&lt;br /&gt;ko ngayon&lt;br /&gt;walang pag-ibig&lt;br /&gt;walang pag-asa&lt;br /&gt;walang buhay&lt;br /&gt;patay&lt;br /&gt;sana&lt;br /&gt;tulad ng dati&lt;br /&gt;may tunay na&lt;br /&gt;nagmamahal...&lt;br /&gt;sana&lt;br /&gt;tulad ng dati&lt;br /&gt;may tunay na&lt;br /&gt;pagmamahal...&lt;br /&gt;sana&lt;br /&gt;tulad ng dati&lt;br /&gt;may mga kaibigan&lt;br /&gt;sana&lt;br /&gt;tulad ng dati&lt;br /&gt;walang problema&lt;br /&gt;sana&lt;br /&gt;nandiyan ka&lt;br /&gt;kaso&lt;br /&gt;wala ka na&lt;br /&gt;wala&lt;br /&gt;wala&lt;br /&gt;wala&lt;br /&gt;puro kalungkutan&lt;br /&gt;ang iniwan mo&lt;br /&gt;sana lang talaga&lt;br /&gt;sana....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-110315640192020450?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/110315640192020450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=110315640192020450' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/110315640192020450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/110315640192020450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2004/12/tulad-ng-dati.html' title='tulad ng dati'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-109920150132900405</id><published>2004-10-31T13:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-31T13:55:58.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Love You've Taken Away</title><content type='html'>Girl I've been wonderin'&lt;br /&gt;If it is me you are seein'&lt;br /&gt;In the night when you are sleepin'&lt;br /&gt;When you can't hear me callin'.&lt;br /&gt;I know it's hard for you&lt;br /&gt;To leave me in a place like this&lt;br /&gt;But now I understand&lt;br /&gt;This time, I want what I've missed.&lt;br /&gt;You've left me here alone&lt;br /&gt;You've left me for someone new&lt;br /&gt;You've gone and made me lonely,&lt;br /&gt;Made me lonesome, made me blue.&lt;br /&gt;Now I see that the worst has come&lt;br /&gt;I know that you cannot be found.&lt;br /&gt;All you've left is a memory&lt;br /&gt;Not a rhythm, not a sound.&lt;br /&gt;This poem is not for you to spend.&lt;br /&gt;This poem is not for you to pay.&lt;br /&gt;This is for you to give back&lt;br /&gt;The love you've taken away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-109920150132900405?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/109920150132900405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=109920150132900405' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/109920150132900405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/109920150132900405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2004/10/love-youve-taken-away.html' title='The Love You&apos;ve Taken Away'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-109900692285130195</id><published>2004-10-29T07:38:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-29T07:49:09.730+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What The Future Holds For Us</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Just think that you are an archeologist. You were digging in a site with large piles of rock and sooth. You entered a cavern. The way was cleared by your co-archeologist before you went in. After an hour or two, you came pass the mark that says, 'THIS AREA IS NOT CLEARED YET.' Because of your enthusiasm to see the other side, and reach the unchartered terrain, you wanted to continue on. You were hungry and pale. You felt tired; still your mind has other plans. After few more hours, and also, few steps passed the mark, you encountered a big rock covering a small passage that you can get in to. The rock was covered with dust and big piles of pebbles surrounded it. You tried to move the big rock but it only made the other rocks cover the small hole, thus, making matters worse. Hopelessness filled your mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dejected thought began to fill your mind. Inside your head creep more questions. Is it really the end? You will begin to ask yourself, is this the end for all of us? Is this the end of the line? But still, your brain disagrees, 'I'm certain that there are more things to be discovered.' The thought of uncertainty begins to spring inside you head. This is what the future holds for us. Life is full of discoveries. It is like a dig. Never-ending. No barriers. Only physical handicaps that make us stop and give up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We see things as a puzzle without the pieces. We hold on to a world full of unknown facts and undiscovered pieces needed to be collected. As we all know, we need the pieces for us to know the outcome of the puzzle. But if we stop at a boulder that averts us from entering and discovering more, we won't know the outcome of the puzzle. We can't finish the things we started. We won't know the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We must not let ourselves stop at a point where we think it all ends. The end is always connected to a starting point. It is only the beginning of new things. The beginning of a new world. And with that, the end of a puzzle is not the end of knowing more. Knowing that there's an end, a puzzle makes us learn that we must persevere to know more and knowing that the end is only the beginning of new things makes us realize that there are more challenges and more pieces to be collected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a parting word, may I say these things for us to really know the future? The future doesn't end in a boulder blocking our way. The end is near. The future comes to us every second of our lives. So, it is the future that makes us live and if there is no future, therefore, it is the end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;kyle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-109900692285130195?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/109900692285130195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=109900692285130195' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/109900692285130195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/109900692285130195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2004/10/what-future-holds-for-us.html' title='What The Future Holds For Us'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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-8908963.post-109894595005493359</id><published>2004-10-28T14:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-28T14:45:50.056+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'll make it up to you in time - kyle</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;i'll make it up to you&lt;br /&gt;in time&lt;br /&gt;right before your eyes&lt;br /&gt;i'll try&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll be here for you&lt;br /&gt;i'll be true to you&lt;br /&gt;erase every fear inside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so much for waitin&lt;br /&gt;so much for thinkin&lt;br /&gt;thinkin that you would be mine&lt;br /&gt;in time&lt;br /&gt;so much for wakin&lt;br /&gt;wakin up in time for you&lt;br /&gt;so much for takin&lt;br /&gt;takin each step with you&lt;br /&gt;thinkin that you would be mine&lt;br /&gt;in time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought that i was a sure shot&lt;br /&gt;thank you for showing me what i was not&lt;br /&gt;(and can never be)&lt;br /&gt;I've been there for you&lt;br /&gt;I've been true to you&lt;br /&gt;thought you'd be the fair kind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so much for waitin&lt;br /&gt;so much for thinkin&lt;br /&gt;thinkin that you would be mine&lt;br /&gt;in time&lt;br /&gt;so much for wakin&lt;br /&gt;wakin up in time for you&lt;br /&gt;so much for takin&lt;br /&gt;takin each step with you&lt;br /&gt;thinkin that you would be mine&lt;br /&gt;in time&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8908963-109894595005493359?l=zgomilo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/feeds/109894595005493359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8908963&amp;postID=109894595005493359' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/109894595005493359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8908963/posts/default/109894595005493359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgomilo.blogspot.com/2004/10/ill-make-it-up-to-you-in-time-kyle.html' title='i&apos;ll make it up to you in time - kyle'/><author><name>zgomilo</name><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></feed>
