I Love Spaghetti

I love spaghetti. All Italian foods are amazing but spagetti's my favorite. I always order spaghetti in every restaurant I go to. You might think, "Don't you get tired of them?" Well, no. I never do. I wouldnt mind if I ate spaghetti all three meals. Thinking of it, already makes my mouth water.

The best spaghetti I've ever ate so far was in Miami, at Dolphin Mall. Oh my God, Im getting hungry. The golden cheese sprinkled on top on the beautiful red sauce and spaghetti noodles. It melts in my mouth, the wonderful taste pervading. I regret not getting a second serving, but oh well, there would be better ones in the world, wouldnt they?

My sister calls me a spaghetti freak (I think I really am). But how am I suppose to stop my love towards spaghetti? Impossible. Never. When Im an adult, Im going to go to Italy and try the REAL spaghetti. I'll see if what people said is true. If someone dared me not to eat spaghetti for a month, I bet you I'll lose in a week (Seriously).

I better stop from here, or I'll end up in the kitchen shouting, "Mom! Make me spaghetti!!!"

I Go to Facebook

Because it's where
People go
to chat,
See picture of your friends,
and to know whats happening.

I see who are online,
and chat,
With Luciana,
Jaye,
Eleanor,
Carla,
The usuals.

We talk about,
School,
Homework,
Movies,
Friends,
The usuals.

But today,
I feel bored, tired and blue
I see a person online,
And chat,
A person who I barely
Talk to.

The new feeling,
The new subject,
The excitement that pervades
Through my body.

The person
Who now,
Feels like my bestfriend,
Who I've forgotten,
But now found.

The longer we talk,
The feeling we're getting
To know each other better,
The feeling
We're more than
Just friends.

The person says bye,
And I feel the needles stabbing
Into my heart.
The person's typing something.
I wait.
And I see it
The words the person typed.
I smile my biggest smile,
And reply.
Then say ,"Goodbye"

The Tell-Tale Heart

It was midnight when our commander woke us up. Most of my friends were still sound asleep but I managed to get up and clad my police suit. It had been told that a shriek had been heard by a neighborhood during the night. I surmised that It was a murder or a robbery. 2 of other police officers and I were to go to the victims house.

We knocked on the door, and saw a man smiling. We introduced ourselves and said that our endeavor was to search the house for any evidence to the death. The man nods, the smile still there, as if he already knew what we were going to say. The man said in a non- abrasive tone that he was the son of the old man, and that he left the country.

We made a cursory search around the house before entering any of the rooms. Nothing. As my other two friends and I entered the victims room, I felt gruesome stretch across my body as if I got bitten by a snake and the poison was pervading. We gingerly looked for any inventory that could prove the death. But unfortunately, there wasnt much.

I was surprised to see the man bring chairs for us to sit. The man kindly asked us if we want anything to drink. I quickly asked for coffe since my mouth was dehydrated because I havent drank anything since I woke up.


We sat there, sipping our coffee, while he answered cheerily, we chatted off familiar things. The man sat on a chair, listening to our conversation. He talked more fluently, with a heightened voice. Though my mouth kept chatting, my mind was on the man. Now his face showed no color but white, and the smile that welcomed us first, gone... We talked louder--louder--louder! And still we chatted pleasantly, and smiled. The man paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, frustration shown on his face. I suspected he was the murderer. We smiled our hipocritical smile and now--again -- hark! louder! louder! louder! LOUDER!--

The man took it no more and shrieked, "Villains! Dissemble no more! I admit the deed!--tear up the planks!--here, here!-- it is the beating of his hideous heart" We tore the planks and I felt a chill ran up my spine and grimaced as I saw the succumbed man, still as a stone, the abrasion on his body, haunting me.

I Hate Mosquitos

Today, I want to confess that I hate mosquitoes. The way they buzz into air, the way they look, gives goosebumps on me. And of course, being bitten my one...This is one of the reason why I dont enjoy being in warm countries. BUGS are the problems. Mosquitoes are the worst.


Here I am, typing and Im already bitten by one. I have the urge to scratch them, but I know that wont help. And the weird thing is, I dont see them!!! Where on earth are they??? They are like these invisible creatures that just bites you and go. And leaves you with the whole day scratching it...


Do you know what is the most common thing people suffer from? Yes, you're right. Mosquitoes...


Sometimes, I wonder why God made mosquitoes when the only thing they do is make people sick. They dont do no good. Just biting you and leave.


Do you know how annoying it is when a fly buzzes in your ear while your sleeping? VERY ANNOYING. It bothers your sleep and you just want to kill that stupid thing to stop buzzing and for it to go away.

I swear if there wasnt any mosquitoes in this earth right now , I would be typing this in PEACE.

Frustrated, Annoyed, Depressed.

Have you ever been so nervous that you cant even talk to that person? You've got more than 6 things to say but your lips are glued? Frustrated, annoyed, and blaming yourself. It goes on for days, but it doesnt improve. You see that person online one day, and you say Hi, but as soon as you click enter, he's offline. One step too late.


You're frustrated, annoyed, and blaming yourself...again. Negative thoughts stab you hard in the heart, like sharp knives. Your homework is infront of you, the clean worksheet waiting, untouched. You've got a quiz tomorrow, but you dont study. You just stare...thinking...thinking...waiting...daydreaming...

You talk to people, trying to push that thought away. But it doenst last long. It shoots back to you. Making you think...think...think...again....



Then an idea comes into mind. Your fingers type quickly, and you find yourself in fb. You click your inbox, and click "send a new message." Slowly, but carefully you type. 10 minutes, 15 minutes...You're done.



Your heart is healing, and the rock that was in your heart, slowly fades away. You smile. Not depressed, frustrated, or annoyed.


Then you realize, if you send a message, the pounds of worry disappears. You've told your worry to that person, and soon it would be read, and be solved. Your heart isnt entirely perfect, but better.



And then you go back to do your homework.

This Year, I hope to be more understanding

Dad, you come home late, dark circles under your eyes, and you walk slowly towards your room and collapse onto the bed. I complain, you listen, I complain, you nod, I complain some more, but you dont shout at me. You say you understand, but I say you dont.

You've taught me life lessons, you've taught me how to handle problems, you make me feel protected, you pass word of wisdom. You're like a sun to me, always there, beaming light and warmth of my life. But still I would complain, to an innocent person like you, as if the love you gave me, was not enough.

This year, I hope to be more understanding. I'll greet you with a warm smile, when you come home late from work, I will respect you, because you are my rock and sun.

This year, I hope to be more understanding. I'll let you sleep when you're tired, I'll listen to you, I will not complain.

You give me shelter of care, you've taught me what's right and wrong, and lead our house, with instruction from the bible.

This year, I will be more understanding, and will do my best to be your first class daughter.