<?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-28765725</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:53:39.767-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Background</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>297</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-1558948995461189592</id><published>2009-05-08T00:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T00:24:22.185-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More stupid memes</title><content type='html'>For my only imaginary friend who watches this sh*t...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bleh, I'm too lazy to translate. But I stole a meme XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOODOLOGY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What is your salad dressing of choice?&lt;br /&gt;I barely can stand salads, but I LOOOVE Blue Cheese dressing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. What is your favorite sit-down restaurant?&lt;br /&gt;Almost every restaurant with mexican (REAL mexican) food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. What food could you eat everyday for two weeks and not get sick of?&lt;br /&gt;Anything BUT junk food&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. What are your pizza toppings of choice?&lt;br /&gt;Mmhh... corn... Pepperoni, meat and jalapeños (Here in Mexico there are this Mexican and Ranchera pizza, with meat, chorizo, jalapeño, tomato and a lot of cheese... &lt;a href="http://droolingplz.deviantart.com/"&gt;&lt;img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.com/avatars/d/r/droolingplz.jpg" alt=":icondroolingplz:" title="droolingplz" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Chocolate or Vanilla?&lt;br /&gt;Vanilla :3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TECHNOLOGY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. How many televisions are in your house?&lt;br /&gt;I have two in my mother house (one is mine) and one in DAH PENTHOUSE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Do you have a laptop?&lt;br /&gt;Yep, "Mugrita" (Or in english: "Little dirty thing" XD)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Do you have a desktop?&lt;br /&gt;Mmhh... something like that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Do you have an MP3 player?&lt;br /&gt;I used to have one, but now I prefer my Sony Ericsson W380  :3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. What is your favorite piece of technology currently?&lt;br /&gt;My cellphone... I'm not a gadgety person... But I love videogames... I don't like the next-generation techonoly, I just like useful and practical gadgets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BIOLOGY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Are you right - handed or left- handed?&lt;br /&gt;Right. But I can play the guitar with both hands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Have you ever had anything removed from your body?&lt;br /&gt;Some theeth, but because I had my front theet out of my mouth, so the dentist had to remove some back theet and fix muy whole mouth XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. What is the last heavy item you lifted?&lt;br /&gt;I'm so manly that I always carry heavy things (Like desktops, furniture, pianos, etc) (belive me...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Have you ever been knocked unconscious?&lt;br /&gt;Fainted, yes. Mhh... Oh! Yeah! When I was little, I fell from a tree and hit my head from the back. So I lost conscious for a while and stayed still in the middle of the street XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STUFFOLOGY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die?'&lt;br /&gt;I don't really care... I don't care about death anymore...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. If you could change your name, what would you change it to?&lt;br /&gt;I don't really like my name, but I wouldn't change it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000?&lt;br /&gt;Bleh... I drink an entire bottle of sauce almost everyday &lt;img src="http://e.deviantart.com/emoticons/letters/=p.gif" alt=":P" title=":P (Lick)" width="15" height="15" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DUMBOLOGY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. How many pairs of flip flops do you have?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe 4 or 5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Last time you had a run- in with the cops?&lt;br /&gt;Never had one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Last person you talked to?&lt;br /&gt;My roommate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Last person you hugged?&lt;br /&gt;Julito, my friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FAVOURITOLOGY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Season?&lt;br /&gt;Winter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Holiday?&lt;br /&gt;The day after Christmas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Day of the week?&lt;br /&gt;Monday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Month?&lt;br /&gt;November&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CURRENTOLOGY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Mood?&lt;br /&gt;Depressed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. What are you listening to?&lt;br /&gt;Private Practice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Watching?&lt;br /&gt;Private Practice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RANDOMOLOGY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. First place you went this morning?&lt;br /&gt;My house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. What's the last movie you saw?&lt;br /&gt;Huh... New Police Story&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Do you smile often?&lt;br /&gt;Not anymore...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Do you always answer your phone?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, because I HAVE to... I'd prefer to never answer the phone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. It's four in the morning and you get a text message, who is it?&lt;br /&gt;Nale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. If you could change your eye color what would it be?&lt;br /&gt;I like my eyes. I love blue eyes but I wouldn't stand having blue eyes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Do you own a digital camera?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Have you ever had a pet fish?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, althrough I don't like fishes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Favorite Christmas song(s)?&lt;br /&gt;El niño del tambor =3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. What's on your wish list for your birthday?&lt;br /&gt;... Nothing really...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Can you do push ups?&lt;br /&gt;Ewwww!!! EXCERCISE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Can you do a chin up?&lt;br /&gt;See above&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Does the future make you nervous or excited?&lt;br /&gt;I don't think about future anymore...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Do you have any saved texts?&lt;br /&gt;A lot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Ever been in a car wreck?&lt;br /&gt;Quoting my "boss": Újule!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Do you have an accent?&lt;br /&gt;When I return to Mexico city, my friends says I have the northern Mexico accent. When I return home, my mother says I have the "chilango" or middle Mexico accent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. What is the last song to make you cry?&lt;br /&gt;I'm crying and I'm not listening any song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Plans tonight?&lt;br /&gt;Sleep...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Have you ever felt like you hit rock bottom?&lt;br /&gt;=/ Lately, a lot...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Have you ever been given roses?&lt;br /&gt;My dad gave me a rose two years ago... *sobs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Current hate right now?&lt;br /&gt;I don't hate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Met someone who changed your life?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Three people who might complete this?&lt;br /&gt;Bleh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Does anyone love you?&lt;br /&gt;My family and my friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Would you be a pirate?&lt;br /&gt;I'm afraid of the sea... I'd be the worst pirate evah... (But I looove long range heavy weapons X3)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. What songs do you sing in the shower?&lt;br /&gt;Anything stuck in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Ever had someone sing to you?&lt;br /&gt;Never...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Do you like to cuddle?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah... a lot...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. Who was the last person you took a picture of?&lt;br /&gt;My mother, my brother and my nephew saying me "bye" in the bus station...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. What kind of music did you listen to in Primary school?&lt;br /&gt;Ewww... Enrique Iglesias&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. Are most of the friends in your life new or old?&lt;br /&gt;Old, I guess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. Do you like pulpy orange juice?&lt;br /&gt;Yeaaahh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. Have you ever ridden an elephant?&lt;br /&gt;Yep... I have a picture to probe it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. Do you like to play Scrabble?&lt;br /&gt;I've never played it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. When was the last time you ate peanut butter and jelly?&lt;br /&gt;I don't like jelly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41. What were you doing at 12 AM last night?&lt;br /&gt;Trying to get some sleep in the bus...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-1558948995461189592?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1558948995461189592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1558948995461189592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/05/more-stupid-memes.html' title='More stupid memes'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-7984185971221830924</id><published>2009-04-19T20:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T20:42:13.046-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Memes</title><content type='html'>Meme #1:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s da rules -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Go to &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random"&gt;[link]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first random Wikipedia article you get is your band name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Go to &lt;a href="http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3"&gt;[link]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last four or five words of the very last quote on the page is the title of your first album.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Go to &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days"&gt;[link]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Use PhotoShop or similar to put it all together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Don’t cheat. Random is random. And don’t spend more than 10 minutes on your art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well:  My results:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awesome band XD &lt;a href="http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b270/Miyiku/band.jpg"&gt; [link]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah!&lt;br /&gt;------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meme #2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Are you ready for 50 questions?&lt;br /&gt;It's 2:34 am... yeah... I'm ready&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Which state/country do you live?&lt;br /&gt;Mexico city, Mexico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. What is your favorite thing you got for Christmas?&lt;br /&gt;"Mugre", my Laptop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. What was the last thing you did in 2007?&lt;br /&gt;MMhh... I think I cried because my ex...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. How tall are you?&lt;br /&gt;1.64meters... I hate English system...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Are you new on dA? How long have you been a member?&lt;br /&gt;Almost a year...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Are you male or female?&lt;br /&gt;Niña :3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Which program do you use to chat?&lt;br /&gt;Windows Messenger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. What was the first thing you did this morning?&lt;br /&gt;Turn off the clock... And then oversleep....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Do you own a website or forum?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Is the computer you’re using your own computer?&lt;br /&gt;Yep...  A gift from Santa Claus :3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. What is your favorite type of food?&lt;br /&gt;GARNACHAS!!! (The VERY TRADITIONAL mexican food: Tortas, gorditas, pambazos, torundas, etc)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. How many brothers and sisters do you have?&lt;br /&gt;One little big brother and his son :3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Do you have an account on MySpace?&lt;br /&gt;Eww... nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. What is your favorite video game or anime character?&lt;br /&gt;¿Anime?...  Mmhh... Andromeda Shun, Haku from Nabruto, Sanosuke from Samurai X... a lot of hot guys...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. What is your favorite color?&lt;br /&gt;Blue and Black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Everyone loves candy, right?&lt;br /&gt;I don't like them very much...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Have you ever gotten a gift art from a friend or someone?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Do you have the Wii?&lt;br /&gt;Hell yeah! I spend my monthly schoolarship on it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. (IF YES TO QUESTION 19.) What Wii games do you have?&lt;br /&gt;Wii Sports, No more Heroes, Naruto, Avatar: Burning Earth, Okami (I bought it las september and I haven't played it), Wii Fit, GH III, Harvest Moon, Jillian Michaels' Fitness Ultimatum (What? I'm fat!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. If you could have one wish, what would it be?&lt;br /&gt;To have my dad back...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. How long do you sleep?&lt;br /&gt;5 or 6 hours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. What is your favorite part of day?&lt;br /&gt;Night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. What kind of creature/person is your character?&lt;br /&gt;I don't have a character. I'm Miyiku (even my signature says Miyiku in official papers =/)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. What is the first letter of your name?&lt;br /&gt;M&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Do you cuss/swear/curse?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah... We mexicans love to do that... bad habit, but very common...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Are you happy, excited, angry, or sad at the moment?&lt;br /&gt;Kinda sad... rather inexpressive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. What is your favorite video game?&lt;br /&gt;Mhh... Harvest Moon for GBA... I'm addicted...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Do you think Nintendo is an amazing company?&lt;br /&gt;Nah... it WAS...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. What is your favorite video game company?&lt;br /&gt;Don't have preferences&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. Do you like doing quizzes?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah... I don't know why...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Do you have a lot of good friends?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. What color eyes do you have?&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. What is your favorite Pokémon?&lt;br /&gt;Charizard, Mew... Cubone... Rhyhorn. I love the first generation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. Have you ever seen a house on fire?&lt;br /&gt;I've seen a friend on fire...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. What is your favorite book?&lt;br /&gt;Les Miserables, The pillars of the Earth, Harry Potter... I've read a lot of good books&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. Have you ever read a 100-page book?&lt;br /&gt;Hehehee... I read nearly 30 books per year (Only recreational, not counting school books)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. Are you a Christian?&lt;br /&gt;Catholic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. Who do you like better: Mario or Sonic the hedgehog?&lt;br /&gt;Sonic. My first videogame (Mine, my brother had his own VG) was Sonic The Hedgehog II. And I love it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. Do you like to do smilies?&lt;br /&gt;Yep, when I'm in the mood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41. Do you like to be funny?&lt;br /&gt;See 40.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. What time is it right now in your time zone?&lt;br /&gt;2:49 am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43. Do you like to draw with a pencil or computer mouse?&lt;br /&gt;I fail at drawing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44. What kind of desktop do you use?&lt;br /&gt;Windows XP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45. Have you ever beaten a video game?&lt;br /&gt;Yep... Golden Sun I and II!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46. Do you have an action replay for some system/game?&lt;br /&gt;Mhh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47. What is your favorite holiday?&lt;br /&gt;Christmas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48. What is your favorite letter?&lt;br /&gt;M&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49. What is your favorite number?&lt;br /&gt;7&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50. Now tag 5 of your friends!&lt;br /&gt;Mhhh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meme #3:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME (first pet, current car): Chucho Explorer (OMG! I just died laughing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. YOUR GANGSTA NAME (fave ice cream flavor, favorite type of shoe): Cookie Boots (WTH?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. YOUR NATIVE AMERICAN NAME (favorite color, favorite animal): Black Cat  (pretty unusual...*sarcasm*)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME (middle name, city where you were born): Monica Saltillo (OMG another die hard laugh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. YOUR STAR WARS NAME (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 of your first name): Valmy  (Either that or Vermy...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. SUPERHERO NAME (2nd favorite color, favorite drink): Purple Coke (Lol'd)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. NASCAR NAME (the first names of your grandfathers): Juan Agustín  (sounds like the main actor of an soap opera...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. STRIPPER NAME (the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy): Jazmine Marshmallow (Yeah... I'm going to do Adults Shows right now... I need money XD)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME (your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter): Isabel Irapuato (Ewww)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. SPY NAME (your favorite season/holiday, flower): Winter Nard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. CARTOON NAME (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now): Banana Tanktop  (Weird in so many levels)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. HIPPIE NAME (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree): Banana Ficus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dudo que alguien siga leyendo esto, pero bueh, estan taggeados... ( ? )&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-7984185971221830924?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7984185971221830924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7984185971221830924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/04/memes.html' title='Memes'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-5219758776682755646</id><published>2009-04-01T23:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T00:03:37.126-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lost</title><content type='html'>Three years ago I lost my grandmother... She died so suddenly... And I was her favorite granddaughter...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three years ago I lost my love... He left me because he "couldn't" love me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year ago I lost my dog... It had been my pet for 15 years...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week ago I lost my father... He had a heart attack, the operation went so well, but a microorganism killed him... Ironically, I'm a Microbiologist...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An hour ago I lost my hopes...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-5219758776682755646?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5219758776682755646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5219758776682755646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/04/lost.html' title='The Lost'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-4135212746069281655</id><published>2009-03-18T12:01:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T23:51:45.425-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The LORD is my shepherd</title><content type='html'>The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.&lt;br /&gt;He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:&lt;br /&gt;he leadeth me beside the still waters.&lt;br /&gt;He restoreth my soul:&lt;br /&gt;he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.&lt;br /&gt;Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil:&lt;br /&gt;for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.&lt;br /&gt;Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:&lt;br /&gt;thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.&lt;br /&gt;Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:&lt;br /&gt;and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;John 10: 7 - 18&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-4135212746069281655?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4135212746069281655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4135212746069281655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/03/lord-is-my-shepherd.html' title='The LORD is my shepherd'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-1306223662685121394</id><published>2009-03-02T02:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T02:18:11.352-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Un año?</title><content type='html'>Hahaha... &lt;a href="http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/08/el-luto-de-un-ao.html"&gt;1 año&lt;/a&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ya van 3... Y se siente igual...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-1306223662685121394?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1306223662685121394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1306223662685121394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/03/un-ano.html' title='Un año?'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-7994708858687712455</id><published>2009-02-24T23:56:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T23:59:27.120-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Said by a guy...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Girls​,​ I canno​t stres​s this enoug​h:​ if you aren'​t being​ treat​ed right​ by a guy, dont wait for him to chang​e!​!​!​!​!​&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ditch​ his sorry​ ass, disgr​ace to the male popul​ation​ and find someo​ne who will treat​ you with utter​ respe​ct&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Someo​ne who will honor​ your moral​s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Someo​ne who will make you smile​ when you'​re at your lowes​t.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;​&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Someone who will care for you even when you make mistakes.​&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Someone who will love you, no matte​r how bad you make them feel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Someone who will stop what they'​re doing​ just to look you in the eyes.​.​.​.​ and say "i love you"​,​ and actually mean it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Give the nice guys a chance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-7994708858687712455?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7994708858687712455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7994708858687712455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/02/said-by-guy.html' title='Said by a guy...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-5815204700245170773</id><published>2009-02-17T00:15:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T00:19:49.443-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sindicato cancela huelga en Universidad 'Antonio Narro' de Coahuila</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="tbgrisf11"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="tbgrisf11"&gt;Hilda Fernández Valverde / Corresponsal&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="verrojo13"&gt;&lt;span class="tbgris11"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="tbazull2"&gt;El Universal&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="verrojo13"&gt;&lt;span class="tbgris11"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="tbgrisf11"&gt;Saltillo, Coah. Lunes 16 de febrero de 2009 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="verrojo13"&gt;22:09  www.eluniversal.com.mx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;El Sindicato Único de Trabajadores Académicos de la Universidad Autónoma Agraria “Antonio Narro” (SUTAUAAAN) aceptó un aumento de 4.25% directo al sueldo y de 2.5% en prestaciones, con lo cual quedó conjurada la huelga programada para estallar este lunes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Las negociaciones que concluyeron en buenos términos permitirán que no se entorpezca la labor de la institución donde estudian 5 mil alumnos en sus unidades Saltillo y Torreón, informó el rector, Jorge Galo Medina Torres.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El “SUTAUAAAN” al que pertenecen 700 maestros y técnicos exigía un incremento de 10% al salario y 5% más en prestaciones, así como subsanar algunas supuestas violaciones al Contrato Colectivo de Trabajo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Demandaron la entrega de lentes, y ayuda para la compra de aparatos ortopédicos, entre otros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En respuesta la administración central se comprometió ante la Junta Federal de Conciliación y Arbitraje, en la ciudad de México, a atender sus reclamos, en la medida de lo posible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por otra parte, continuarán las pláticas con el Sindicato Único de Trabajadores Administrativo de la Narro (SUTUNAAAN) que prorrogó su huelga para el 27 de febrero, dijo el rector Medina Torres.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt; vrs&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;---------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;I'm the proudest daughter in the world.&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/28765725-5815204700245170773?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5815204700245170773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5815204700245170773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/02/sindicato-cancela-huelga-en-universidad.html' title='Sindicato cancela huelga en Universidad &apos;Antonio Narro&apos; de Coahuila'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-5899753519609823316</id><published>2009-02-15T00:12:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T00:14:40.648-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;She rested her head against him, her face hidden against his arm. “Thank you…” she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. He distinguished the tone of her voice easily; trust.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Another tear at his heart.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He didn’t deserve her trust&lt;/span&gt;; he had let her down far too many times recently and tonight especially… How could she still have faith in him? He hadn’t been much of a friend, either. It had been so long since he had last talked to her properly that she practically felt like a stranger. He wasn’t sure she was still the girl he used to know and love.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Love?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: right;"&gt;-&lt;a href="http://www.fanfiction.net/u/952175/ZeldaChao19"&gt;ZeldaChao&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fanfiction.net/u/952175/ZeldaChao19"&gt;19&lt;/a&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/28765725-5899753519609823316?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5899753519609823316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5899753519609823316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentines-day.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Day?'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-2462315453183713086</id><published>2009-02-07T23:43:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T23:49:34.018-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happyness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;MV: ¿Eres feliz?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;MM: ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;MV: Olvídalo... con eso me lo dijiste todo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;MM: Si pudiera olvidar un sólo aspecto de mi vida, podría decirte que soy completamente feliz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;MV: Si, pero no se puede ser feliz a medias, asi como no puedes estar ligeramente embarazada... A veces le digo a tu padre que tu no eres feliz y él me dice que es por que te falta encontrar el amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;MM: Eso...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;MV: Pero yo recuerdo que antes de estar enamorada yo era tan feliz...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153); font-style: italic;"&gt;MM: Tu lo has dicho... ANTES... Despues de enamorarse es otra historia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;MV: ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-2462315453183713086?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/2462315453183713086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/2462315453183713086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/02/happyness.html' title='Happyness'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-4532856542020234881</id><published>2009-02-05T11:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T11:19:54.111-06:00</updated><title type='text'>PWNED!</title><content type='html'>HAHAHAAA!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://flekica.deviantart.com/art/loving-Nale-32074364"&gt;LOL!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-4532856542020234881?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4532856542020234881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4532856542020234881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/02/pwned.html' title='PWNED!'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-4718846239584382438</id><published>2009-01-25T12:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T12:02:00.323-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Concrete...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;And call her crazy, but she missed him. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Him&lt;/span&gt; him. She missed screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain, and she wanted to be up at two in the morning cursing his name because he just BOTHERED her so much. She wanted to yell at him, to punch him really really hard for no reason; she needed that. She craved that. She wanted to be so in love that it drove her absolutely insane at times.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;That was just the way she loved him. Not softly, not gently, but hard and thorough and ABSOLUTE. Completely obvious.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;-&lt;a href="http://www.fanfiction.net/u/955500/3VAD127"&gt;3VAD127&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-4718846239584382438?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4718846239584382438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4718846239584382438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/01/concrete.html' title='Concrete...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-9014668526663338986</id><published>2009-01-25T00:27:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T00:33:29.486-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And I never really had a chance...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;"&gt;Say you’re sorry&lt;br /&gt;That face of an angel&lt;br /&gt;Comes out just when you need it to&lt;br /&gt;As I paced back and forth all this time&lt;br /&gt;Cause I honestly believed in you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;"&gt;Holding on, the days drag on&lt;br /&gt;Stupid girl,&lt;br /&gt;I should have known, I should have known...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That I’m not a princess, this ain’t a fairy tale&lt;br /&gt;I’m not the one you’ll sweep off her feet,&lt;br /&gt;Lead her up the stairwell&lt;br /&gt;This ain’t Hollywood, this is a small town,&lt;br /&gt;I was a dreamer before you went and let me down&lt;br /&gt;Now it’s too late for you&lt;br /&gt;And your white horse, to come around&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;"&gt;Baby I was naive,&lt;br /&gt;Got lost in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;And  i never really had a chance&lt;br /&gt;I had so many dreams&lt;br /&gt;About you and me&lt;br /&gt;Happy endings&lt;br /&gt;Now I know...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That I’m not a princess, this ain’t a fairy tale&lt;br /&gt;I’m not the one you’ll sweep off her feet,&lt;br /&gt;Lead her up the stairwell&lt;br /&gt;This ain’t Hollywood, this is a small town,&lt;br /&gt;I was a dreamer before you went and let me down&lt;br /&gt;Now it’s too late for you&lt;br /&gt;And your white horse, to come around...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Taylor Swift&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-9014668526663338986?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/9014668526663338986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/9014668526663338986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/01/say-youre-sorry-that-face-of-angel.html' title='And I never really had a chance...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-6869192601579309558</id><published>2009-01-24T17:07:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T17:16:16.450-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't deserve it</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It was such a simple thing... I always asked for simple things... but important things... What a waste of time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I always waited... for a smile... for a word... for a kiss... What a waste of time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He always says he didn't deserve it. And I don't deserve it too... That's no way to treat someone who loves you. What a waste of time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I don't wanna wait anymore... Nobody deserves that... I was so fool... so idiot... so innocent...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-6869192601579309558?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6869192601579309558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6869192601579309558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-dont-deserve-it.html' title='I don&apos;t deserve it'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-8148562344383834009</id><published>2009-01-15T23:35:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T23:38:00.206-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Adicciones</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Still, they say you don’t kick the habit until you hit rock bottom, but how do you know when you’re there? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Because no matter how badly a thing is hurting us, sometimes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;letting it go hurts even worse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Meredith Grey&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/28765725-8148562344383834009?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8148562344383834009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8148562344383834009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/01/adicciones.html' title='Adicciones'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-1184336577285431584</id><published>2009-01-12T20:07:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T20:08:20.828-06:00</updated><title type='text'>E.P.I.C.  F.A.I.L.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://failblog.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/fail-owned-combo-movie-fail.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 450px; height: 338px;" src="http://failblog.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/fail-owned-combo-movie-fail.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-1184336577285431584?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1184336577285431584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1184336577285431584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/01/epic-fail.html' title='E.P.I.C.  F.A.I.L.'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-7307049746881934801</id><published>2009-01-08T23:37:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T23:40:47.323-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Acaso tú te diste cuenta?</title><content type='html'>You said I was so cold... and cruel... and mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dijiste que no me di cuenta cuando te sentiste mal, cuando necesitabas de alguien, cuando estabas triste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Acaso tú te diste cuenta de cuando YO estaba triste? ¿Me viste llorar hasta reventarme los vasos sanguíneos de los ojos? ¿Me escuchaste gritar hasta que me destruí las fosas nasales?&lt;br /&gt;¿Cuándo fue la ultima vez que me viste llorar? ¿O flaquear? ¿o quejarme?... El que no lo hayas visto no quiere decir que no haya sucedido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui estoy... debajo de tus narices.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-7307049746881934801?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7307049746881934801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7307049746881934801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/01/acaso-t-te-diste-cuenta.html' title='Acaso tú te diste cuenta?'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-1582798844236015569</id><published>2009-01-08T23:36:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T23:36:56.571-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Intermission</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Is that &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;hard&lt;/span&gt; to say "I love you too"...?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-1582798844236015569?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1582798844236015569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1582798844236015569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/01/intermission.html' title='Intermission'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-829527789206726993</id><published>2009-01-01T19:47:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T19:51:10.796-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Propósitos de Año Nuevo</title><content type='html'>Tomar una decisión.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Decidir decidir decidir. Nunca en mi vida había tenido problemas para decidirme por algo. Ni para elegir carrera, ni para elegir donde iba a hacer mi maestría... no tuve problemas por que tenía la suficiente determinación. Pero ahora me veo por primera vez ante una encrucijada. Bleh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-829527789206726993?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/829527789206726993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/829527789206726993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2009/01/propsitos-de-ao-nuevo.html' title='Propósitos de Año Nuevo'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-5650969519322968427</id><published>2008-12-28T22:54:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T23:01:16.290-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dibujitus :3</title><content type='html'>LOL:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://miyiku.deviantart.com/gallery/#_browse/scraps"&gt;http://miyiku.deviantart.com/gallery/#_browse/scraps&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://miyiku.deviantart.com/art/Honjo-Kamatari-107709713"&gt;http://miyiku.deviantart.com/art/Honjo-Kamatari-107709713&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-5650969519322968427?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5650969519322968427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5650969519322968427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/12/dibujitus-3.html' title='Dibujitus :3'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-5947603060703433562</id><published>2008-12-16T22:57:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T22:58:53.880-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Qué quiero para Navidad?</title><content type='html'>Querido Santa:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sólo quiero Amor...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-5947603060703433562?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5947603060703433562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5947603060703433562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/12/qu-quiero-para-navidad.html' title='Qué quiero para Navidad?'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-1001738706721050606</id><published>2008-12-13T18:40:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T23:05:51.569-06:00</updated><title type='text'>LOL!</title><content type='html'>No me había dado cuenta de un par de comentarios en ésta entrada:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://the-background.blogspot.com/2006/09/clasificacin-de-las-mujeres-segn-la.html"&gt;Clasificación de Mujeres según la UAAAN&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;dl id="comments-block"&gt;&lt;dt id="c4006546349625197722"&gt; &lt;img src="https://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" class="comment-icon anon-comment" alt="Anonymous" /&gt;  &lt;span dir="ltr"&gt;Anonymous&lt;/span&gt;  said...&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yo estudie en la UAAAN, lo que no te dijo el maestro es que las de ciencias quimicas ocupan el primer lugar por facilotas, no por lo que tu pensaste y que tanto te halagó...&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="comment-timestamp"&gt;Thursday, March 15, 2007&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dt id="c8693493383481143186"&gt; &lt;img src="https://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" class="comment-icon anon-comment" alt="Anonymous" /&gt;  &lt;span dir="ltr"&gt;Anonymous&lt;/span&gt;  said...&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;p&gt;soy de la uaaan, mira amiga primero abre una cuenta en el banco y ahorrate tus comentarios, a ni creas que vamos a acabar con tus norteños, ni que estuvieran tan buenos, por si las dudas cuida bien al tuyo, ya que te lo podemos quitar con eso que los hombres se estan extinguiendo por nuestra culpa segun lo que TU dices, talvez tu critica es por que estas ardida( no te vayas a quemar) compra vitacilina, a y gusto en saludarte con CARIÑO las chavas de la uaaan. si vas a la narro no vayas a criticar ve y as tu tabajo, a y talvez vas a la narro por que andas buscando santisfacer tus necesidades(inforamacion para tu tesis claro). a y no es nada personal, cuida mas tus comentarios. o mejor manten cerrada tu boca.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="comment-timestamp"&gt;Saturday, December 13, 2008&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;/dl&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.- Bueh, creo que hay gente que no sabe leer muy bien. Mencioné que el lugar tiene FAMA de eso. Yo no le puse la fama XD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.- Esa "clasificacion" me la dio un doctor que trabajaba ahi, yo no la hice. Hablen ustedes con sus profesores, not my problem XD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.- Es increible como la gente de internet me conoce más que yo misma, que saben más de a que voy a esa escuela y saben  más de mi. Wow! Me asombran!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EDIT:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.- Y una cosa que se me olvidó agregar. No sé quien será la "ardida". Yo por comentar algo que un maestro de esa escuela me dijo, o "Anonymus" que viene a mi blog a decirme esas cosas por un comentario que hice hace &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2 años&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-1001738706721050606?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1001738706721050606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1001738706721050606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/12/lol.html' title='LOL!'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-2962696857035479509</id><published>2008-12-11T23:51:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T23:58:16.922-06:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Cosas que no sabías de mi...</title><content type='html'>(Y que probablemente quisieras seguir sin saber...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.- Me gusta comer carne cruda.  &lt;br /&gt;No de cerdo, no de pollo, pero definitivamente adoro la carne de res cruda. Y no hay nada más delicioso que una riquísima mordida de carne molida de res revuelta con un huevo crudo y sazonadores. Podría comer kilos de eso…    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.- Tengo una cierta obsesión por oler mis calcetines cuando me los quito. (Bueh, mis calcetines y mi sostén). &lt;br /&gt;No me huelen los pies, pero no puedo evitar oler mis calcetines cada vez que me los quito.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.- Lloro mucho. &lt;br /&gt;A veces lloro sin saber por qué. Lloro cuando me acuerdo (y tengo muy buena memoria para eso). Lloro con comerciales de las olimpiadas, del espíritu navideño, con escenas extremadamente cursis de series televisivas, con imágenes tristes, con películas heroicas y comedias románticas, y hasta al ver ciertos objetos inanimados que no mencionaré. Pero DETESTO que me vean llorar.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.- Me arranco las uñas de los dedos de los pies. &lt;br /&gt;Don’t ask.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.- Me quejo demasiado. &lt;br /&gt;Pero por mucho que me queje de ciertas cosas, no dejo de hacerlas, comerlas, usarlas, etc. dependiendo de lo que me esté quejando. O sea, mis quejas no son para tomarse muy enserio.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.- Soy MUY paciente.  &lt;br /&gt;Y mucho más tolerante de lo que la gente cree. Pero la mayoría prefiere verme como un ogro gruñón o una ermitaña arisca.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.- Me encantan los fuegos artificiales, pero no soporto los que provocan explosiones muy sonoras.&lt;br /&gt;Me pone paranóica estar escuchando los cohetones en las fiestas patrias, navideñas, religiosas etc. Realmente me sacan de quicio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.- Sé hacer muchísimas cosas, pero no hay una sola cosa que sepa hacer bien. &lt;br /&gt;Se cocinar, tejer, bordar, tocar un montón de instrumentos musicales, jugar muchísimos videojuegos, extraer DNA, hacer figuras de origami y plastilina… Pero ni sé tocar una pieza completa, ni sé tejer más de un estilo, ni conozco más de un par de figuras de origami. No hay una sola cosa que sepa hacer bien. ¿Tienen idea de lo mediocre que es eso?    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.- Soy muy apegada a mi hogar.  &lt;br /&gt;Pero irónicamente puedo sentirme como en mi hogar en casi cualquier lugar.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.- Tengo la obsesión de ponerle mi nombre y la fecha a cada libro en cuanto comienzo a leerlo.&lt;br /&gt;Me gusta mucho comprar libros usados, y he encontrado muchos con datos de antiguos dueños y algunos que han pasado por varias ciudades llevan un historial de donde han estado. Algún día dentro de muchos años quizá esos libros puedan estar en algún anticuario, en alguna librería de viejo o en el rincón de alguna casa, y quizá (sólo quizá) alguien con la misma curiosidad que yo se pregunte por cuántos lugares habrá pasado ese libro antes de llegar ahí.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-2962696857035479509?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/2962696857035479509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/2962696857035479509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/12/10-cosas-que-no-sabas-de-mi.html' title='10 Cosas que no sabías de mi...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-847627729271806288</id><published>2008-11-22T00:43:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T00:43:49.328-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cry</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And then I felt so fragile... So vulnerable... so sad. I started to cry and then I said that I was vulnerable and fragile and sad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But nobody listened to me. I only asked for one person, the person that matter the most for me. The one I loved the most. But nobody was hearing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The only one person I would give my life up for wasn't hearing to me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And I cried. Because when he was sad I was with him. When he was alone, I was with him. But when I cried he wasn't listening. And I felt more vulnerable, sad and fragile as I've ever been.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-847627729271806288?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/847627729271806288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/847627729271806288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/11/cry.html' title='Cry'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-3085992243191465204</id><published>2008-11-12T23:59:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T00:27:12.575-06:00</updated><title type='text'>12-11-08</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-3085992243191465204?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3085992243191465204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3085992243191465204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/11/12-11-08.html' title='12-11-08'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-3466026019836430425</id><published>2008-10-19T21:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T21:07:30.852-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Eye to Heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;"&gt;“I don’t know why you ever thought my heart was good enough and I don’t understand why you gave me yours……”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;"&gt;But please, at least once. Say my name and make it bloom.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;"&gt;-lorelessbison&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-3466026019836430425?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3466026019836430425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3466026019836430425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/10/eye-to-heart.html' title='Eye to Heart'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-1045521129700595917</id><published>2008-10-19T00:52:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T01:03:07.494-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Everytime.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish you could see beyond my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span onclick="dr4sdgryt2(event)" style="cursor: pointer;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;stubborness and find out th devotion in my eyes when I'm looking at you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span onclick="dr4sdgryt2(event)" style="cursor: pointer;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sometimes I wish you could feel beyond my sensitivity and discover the love when I'm holding your hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span onclick="dr4sdgryt2(event)" style="cursor: pointer;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sometimes I wish you could hear beyond my cries and and listen the affection when I say your name. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-M.M.V.V.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span onclick="dr4sdgryt2(event)" style="cursor: pointer;"&gt;&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/28765725-1045521129700595917?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1045521129700595917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1045521129700595917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/10/everytime.html' title='Everytime.'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-4295127285245901833</id><published>2008-10-15T21:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T21:48:27.378-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pity and Fear...</title><content type='html'>...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;'Cos there are no tears, just pity and fear&lt;br /&gt;and I recall the push more than the fall&lt;br /&gt;the push more than the fall...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Death Cab for Cutie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;P.D: DA Updated. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-4295127285245901833?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4295127285245901833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4295127285245901833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/10/pity-and-fear.html' title='Pity and Fear...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-4423287065366557745</id><published>2008-10-07T10:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T10:55:18.993-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ésto explica taaantas cosas...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Horoscopos        del 2008 : ESCORPIO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;Amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Si lo que buscas es enamorarte, esta claro que el 2008 no va a ser tu        año, ya que solo recibiras ofertas de sexo.&lt;br /&gt;      Tus aspiraciones amorosas son muy altas, es mejor que bajes un poco el liston        porque lo de los principes azules millonarios esta muy dificil.&lt;br /&gt;      Empieza el año conformandote con lo que te ofrezcan, veras que cuando        el 2008 vaya terminando las cosas empezaran a mejorar.&lt;br /&gt;      Dedicate los proximos 366 dias a disfrutar sin pensar en compromisos serios        porque todo lo que venga a tu vida sera poco importante.&lt;br /&gt;      El mejor amor que recibiras durante el 2008 sera el de tus amigos, ellos        te daran un amor y apoyo incondicionales, estaran para las fiestas y para        los problemas, recurre a ellos siempre que lo necesites porque nunca te        lo reprocharan.&lt;br /&gt;      Tu familia tambien sera un pilar importante en tu vida durante los proximos        doce meses, ellos te proporcionaran la estabilidad que no encontraras en        el amor.&lt;br /&gt;      Es muy posible que al final de la primavera pases una mala racha en lo personal        pero ahi estaran tus hermanos para apoyarte, especialmente uno de ellos,        ademas de formar parte de tu familia, se convertira en tu mejor amigo.&lt;br /&gt;      Al final del proximo año, llegaras a la conclusion de que las personas        mas importantes en tu vida son aquellas que llevan tu misma sangre.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-4423287065366557745?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4423287065366557745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4423287065366557745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/10/sto-explica-taaantas-cosas.html' title='Ésto explica taaantas cosas...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-8787598974783431549</id><published>2008-10-03T23:51:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T23:52:14.426-05:00</updated><title type='text'>But she don't mean a thing to him...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This is the moment that you know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; That you told you loved her but you don't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; You touch her skin and then you think&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; That she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Yeah, she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;-Death Cab for Cutie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-8787598974783431549?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8787598974783431549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8787598974783431549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/10/but-she-dont-mean-thing-to-him.html' title='But she don&apos;t mean a thing to him...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-3332131405117259384</id><published>2008-09-10T00:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T00:37:41.602-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Will you miss me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who cares, anyway, you&lt;br /&gt;Please show me what you feel for me;&lt;br /&gt;Do it before I disappear in this life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm almost gone now;&lt;br /&gt;Soon I'll be gone forever,&lt;br /&gt;And then you might see what I felt.&lt;br /&gt;But then it will be to late,&lt;br /&gt;Since I won't be there anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-'Zapata'&lt;/span&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/28765725-3332131405117259384?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3332131405117259384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3332131405117259384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/09/will-you-miss-me.html' title='Will you miss me?'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-6571123207177343100</id><published>2008-09-08T22:17:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T20:54:44.061-05:00</updated><title type='text'>MEME!</title><content type='html'>Stolen from a random DA profile...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Things You Want To Do Before You Die:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Learn how to drive an airplane&lt;br /&gt;2.) Skydive&lt;br /&gt;3.) Have a Tattoo/piercing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Names You Go By:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Hilda&lt;br /&gt;2.) Miu&lt;br /&gt;3.) Mir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Screen Names You Have Had (Other Than This One):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Arcanine&lt;br /&gt;2.) Mushka&lt;br /&gt;3.) StarterPooch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Physical Things You Like About Yourself:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Breasts&lt;br /&gt;2.) Hips&lt;br /&gt;3.) Feet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Parts Of Your Heritage:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Spanish&lt;br /&gt;2.) Morals&lt;br /&gt;3.) Err...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Things That Scare You:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Car crashes&lt;br /&gt;2.) Automatic Doors&lt;br /&gt;3.) People crying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Of Your Everyday Essentials:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Visit Internet&lt;br /&gt;2.) TV&lt;br /&gt;3.) Reading&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Things You Are Wearing Right Now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) A green T-shirt whit a 1-UP Mushroom :3&lt;br /&gt;2.) Jeans&lt;br /&gt;3.) Sandals&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Of Your Favorite Bands/Musical Artists:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) The Fray&lt;br /&gt;2.) Dashboard Confessional&lt;br /&gt;3.) The Killers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Of Your Favorite Songs:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Hands Down - Dashboard Confessional&lt;br /&gt;2.) Mr. Brightside - The Killers&lt;br /&gt;3.) Shimmer - Fuel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Things You Want In A Relationship:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Love&lt;br /&gt;2.) Love&lt;br /&gt;3.) FUCKING AND UNCONDITIONAL LOVE!!! (Is that hard?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two Truths And A Lie (in no particular order):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) I'm very proud&lt;br /&gt;2.) I don't know what Im good at&lt;br /&gt;3.) I like my look&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Physical Things About The Preferred Sex That Appeal To You:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Hair&lt;br /&gt;2.) Easy-goingness ( ? )&lt;br /&gt;3.) The habit to be silly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three of your Favorite Hobbies:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Read books&lt;br /&gt;2.) BUY innecesary things&lt;br /&gt;3.) Watch TV&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Things You Want To Do Really Badly Right Now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Drink a coffee...&lt;br /&gt;2.) Finish my thesis &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=fMYJ2LNitio"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) Decide what to do with my life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Careers You're Considering/You've Considered:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) PH D in Sciences...&lt;br /&gt;2.) Palaeontologyst&lt;br /&gt;3.) Musician&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Places You Want To Go On Vacation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) My home&lt;br /&gt;2.) USA&lt;br /&gt;3.) My home...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Kid's Names You Like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Luke&lt;br /&gt;2.) Alexander&lt;br /&gt;3.) Toph (for a girl)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Ways That You Are Stereotypically A Girl:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Likes to paint my nails&lt;br /&gt;2.) Likes high heels&lt;br /&gt;3.) Cries at movies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Ways That You Are Stereotypically A Boy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Can belch loudly&lt;br /&gt;2.) Admires cute/pretty girls&lt;br /&gt;3.) Likes movies about senseless explotions and carcrashes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-6571123207177343100?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6571123207177343100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6571123207177343100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/09/meme.html' title='MEME!'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-2062259100787213593</id><published>2008-08-30T16:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T16:42:53.233-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SMEXY</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Smexy. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;adj.&lt;/span&gt;  Smart and sexy.  And in some cases, sexy and Mexican.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-2062259100787213593?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/2062259100787213593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/2062259100787213593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/08/smexy.html' title='SMEXY'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-284204906745437668</id><published>2008-08-24T17:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T17:11:33.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'>DA</title><content type='html'>Tenemos DevianArtus...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(No podía caer más bajo ¬¬)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sé que lo que hay ahi es pura basura, pero me obligaron ;_;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://miyiku.deviantart.com/"&gt;Miyiku~&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-284204906745437668?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/284204906745437668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/284204906745437668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/08/da.html' title='DA'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-9094961718482010646</id><published>2008-07-31T18:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T18:18:23.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I just wanna say...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I  G I V E  U P . . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-9094961718482010646?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/9094961718482010646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/9094961718482010646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-just-wanna-say.html' title='I just wanna say...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-119099794654054366</id><published>2008-07-20T15:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T15:44:04.728-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything I want is in your eyes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We are the real, if real ever was, and just because &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We are the real, they feel we have enough, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We are the real, ‘cause someone gave us up &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;I want to be there when you’re happy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;I want to love you when you’re sad&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-The Smashing Pumpkins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&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/28765725-119099794654054366?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/119099794654054366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/119099794654054366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/07/everything-i-want-is-in-your-eyes.html' title='Everything I want is in your eyes...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-4980759647546642909</id><published>2008-07-17T23:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T23:07:53.959-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A tí...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Te amé, y al decirlo ahora&lt;br /&gt;doblando la frente mustia&lt;br /&gt;muere la voz en mis labios&lt;br /&gt;tiembla en mi mano la pluma:&lt;br /&gt;dos lágrimas mis mejillas&lt;br /&gt;en ondas de fuego surcan&lt;br /&gt;al recordar esas horas&lt;br /&gt;que no han de volver ya ¡nunca!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;                &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mi amor fue un sueño de dicha&lt;br /&gt;tan inocente y tan pura,&lt;br /&gt;que aún hoy su aroma me embriaga&lt;br /&gt;y su fulgor me deslumbra.&lt;br /&gt;Sin él, el mundo me ofrece&lt;br /&gt;la soledad de la tumba;&lt;br /&gt;y si hoy con él me brindaras,&lt;br /&gt;llorando dijera ¡nunca!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;                &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Como enemigos aceros&lt;br /&gt;nuestras palabras se buscan,&lt;br /&gt;y altivas y desdeñosas&lt;br /&gt;nuestras miradas se cruzan,&lt;br /&gt;con tu suprema arrogancia&lt;br /&gt;me has provocado a la lucha,&lt;br /&gt;en que podrás verme muerta,&lt;br /&gt;rendida a tus plantas, ¡nunca!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;                &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Si suplicante y vencida&lt;br /&gt;caigo ante ti en esta lucha,&lt;br /&gt;¡que tu desprecio me agobie!,&lt;br /&gt;¡que tu altivez me confunda!&lt;br /&gt;¡Sello de eterna ignominia&lt;br /&gt;mi frente a tus ojos cubra!&lt;br /&gt;Piedad de mí no la tengas;&lt;br /&gt;de mí no la aguardes ¡nunca!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;                &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Por ti he librado mil veces&lt;br /&gt;el cáliz de la amargura…&lt;br /&gt;Óyeme bien: si algún día&lt;br /&gt;con voz de amor y de angustia,&lt;br /&gt;clamases perdón llorando&lt;br /&gt;de hinojos ante mi tumba,&lt;br /&gt;se irguiera ante ti mi sombra&lt;br /&gt;y airada dijera: ¡nunca!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: right;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: right;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Clara L. Ferrer&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/28765725-4980759647546642909?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4980759647546642909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4980759647546642909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/07/t.html' title='A tí...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-972529364167672431</id><published>2008-07-16T19:13:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T19:18:01.506-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I fu*king miss you so much...</title><content type='html'>...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DGQVX8iGbgk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DGQVX8iGbgk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't there to see you when you needed me the most... I'm so sorry...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-972529364167672431?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/972529364167672431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/972529364167672431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-fuking-miss-you-so-much.html' title='I fu*king miss you so much...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-7596611350169588929</id><published>2008-07-13T00:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T00:09:43.277-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cantares...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Grábame como un sello sobre tu corazón,&lt;br /&gt;    como un sello sobre tu brazo,&lt;br /&gt;    porque el Amor es fuerte como la Muerte,&lt;br /&gt;    inflexibles como el Abismo son los celos.&lt;br /&gt;    Sus flechas son flechas de fuego,&lt;br /&gt;    sus llamas, llamas del Señor.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;Las aguas torrenciales no pueden apagar      el amor,&lt;br /&gt;    ni los ríos anegarlo.&lt;br /&gt;    Si alguien ofreciera toda su fortuna&lt;br /&gt;    a cambio del amor,&lt;br /&gt;    tan sólo conseguiría desprecio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Cant 8:6,7&lt;/span&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/28765725-7596611350169588929?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7596611350169588929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7596611350169588929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/07/cantares.html' title='Cantares...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-1896636771437184510</id><published>2008-07-12T00:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T00:45:22.790-05:00</updated><title type='text'>El amor nunca falla...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;El amor es paciente, es bondadoso. El amor no es envidioso ni jactancioso ni orgulloso. No se comporta con rudeza, no es egoísta, no se enoja fácilmente, no guarda rencor. El amor no se deleita en la maldad sino que se regocija con la verdad. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Todo lo disculpa, todo lo cree, todo lo espera, todo lo soporta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -1 Cor. 8:1-3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&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/28765725-1896636771437184510?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1896636771437184510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1896636771437184510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/07/el-amor-nunca-falla.html' title='El amor nunca falla...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-8028077492294725461</id><published>2008-07-10T19:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T19:27:20.667-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dime...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dime por favor donde no estás&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;en qué lugar puedo no ser tu ausencia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;dónde puedo vivir sin recordarte,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;y dónde recordar, sin que me duela.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dime por favor cuál es la noche,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;en que vendrás, para velar tu sueño;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;que no puedo vivir, porque te extraño;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;y que no puedo morir, porque te quiero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Gustavo Alejandro Castiñeiras&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-8028077492294725461?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8028077492294725461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8028077492294725461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/07/dime.html' title='Dime...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-2168984285103369494</id><published>2008-07-08T22:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T22:17:55.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'>... (23)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Aunque  no sepa quererte de la forma que a tí te gustaría,&lt;br /&gt;siempre te querré  con todo mi corazón de la mejor forma que sepa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;-Anonimo&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/28765725-2168984285103369494?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/2168984285103369494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/2168984285103369494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/07/2_08.html' title='... (23)'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-4690272880334059849</id><published>2008-07-05T21:36:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T22:12:33.722-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bittersweet...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Sin embargo, siempre que pensaba en ella le quedaba un regusto desagradable, como el resabio amargo que deja la cerveza ácida. La había amado sin condiciones y ella había acabando rechazándole."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;-Ken Follet&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/28765725-4690272880334059849?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4690272880334059849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4690272880334059849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/07/sin-embargo-siempre-que-pensaba-en-ella.html' title='Bittersweet...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-2407259581467862969</id><published>2008-07-05T00:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T22:15:46.004-05:00</updated><title type='text'>... (22)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;    ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No sigas a un amor que te hizo sufrir,&lt;br /&gt;un amor que un día se olvido de ti&lt;br /&gt;y lo peor, un amor que un día se fue de tí.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;-Anónimo (Un amigo)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&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/28765725-2407259581467862969?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/2407259581467862969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/2407259581467862969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/07/2.html' title='... (22)'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-2114244995875318862</id><published>2008-06-30T23:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T00:04:32.325-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Un Mundo Sin Fin</title><content type='html'>...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-¿Qué siente por ti?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Dice que soy la mejor amiga que ha tenido jamás.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-¿Y eso qué quiere decir?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-No lo sé. Pero no significa "te amo", ¿verdad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-No. No significa eso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;-Ken Follet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-2114244995875318862?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/2114244995875318862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/2114244995875318862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/06/un-mundo-sin-fin.html' title='Un Mundo Sin Fin'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-3353016133966327202</id><published>2008-06-28T00:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T00:55:45.632-05:00</updated><title type='text'>There is no sky over me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;Me sucede una cosa extraña. ¿Sabeís cual? Estoy en la noche: hay un sol que al irse se ha llevado el cielo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;-Mario, en Los Miserables.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-3353016133966327202?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3353016133966327202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3353016133966327202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/06/there-is-no-sky-over-me.html' title='There is no sky over me...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-4198585785759487018</id><published>2008-06-26T21:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T21:29:15.566-05:00</updated><title type='text'>De hábitos alimenticios...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;Me: Estoy tratando de dejar el refresco...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Roomie: Uh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;Me: Si... llevo 2 dias con la misma botella de refresco... solía tomarme casi 2 al día&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Roomie: Oh! Y eso?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;Me: No se... trato de cuidarme. Estoy dejando las carnes, le estoy bajando al refresco...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Roomie: Y estás tomando mas agua ¿no?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;Me: Obvio... estoy desayunando... yogurth...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Roomie: WTF????  NO MAM*S!!!! ¿Tu?... ¿Desayunar????  ¡¡¡YOGURTH???!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;Me: Lo sé... tambien mi madre me dijo que no me conocía... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-4198585785759487018?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4198585785759487018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4198585785759487018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/06/de-hbitos-alimenticios.html' title='De hábitos alimenticios...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-5472696267688658905</id><published>2008-06-24T20:48:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T20:54:43.630-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversaciones sobre la separación...</title><content type='html'>-No se trata de las propiedades- dijo ella.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Entonces, ¿de que se trata?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Del amor- sonrió.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-¿Del amor?- se extrañó.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-El amor es un combate- sonreía Marie-Claude-. Combatiré todo lo que sea necesario. Hasta el final.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-¿Que el amor es un combate? No tengo el menor deseo de combatir- dijo Franz y se marchó.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;-Milán Kundera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Que mujer tan estúpida eres, Marie-Claude... que estúpida.&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/28765725-5472696267688658905?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5472696267688658905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5472696267688658905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/06/conversaciones-sobre-la-separacin.html' title='Conversaciones sobre la separación...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-5419041474422051327</id><published>2008-06-21T00:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T00:19:17.670-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just thinking...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I feel so… I don’t know… So… broken… So confused… so mad. I don’t even know how I should feel. I’m think I’m an idiot... a fool. Everything I belived in was just fake. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;When you left everything you had... your family, your friends, your life, just for chase a dream that turned into a nightmare... you’ve lost any hope left. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;It isn’t hard to understand... it’s hard... almost impossible to get used to ... to feel confortable whit that... to accept... It’s rocklike... and hurts a lot. A lot... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I know that eventually I’m going to get better, and I’m going to forget... But that knowing doesn’t ease the pain. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I didn’t feel ‘that’ because I wanted it... I just felt it because... It was what I felt... Because... I don’t know!... I ... I really don’t know!... I don’t know how it’s suposed to be... &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I don’t know if I did a mistake... What’s wrong with me?... What if... this happen to me again? What if ... Dammit! I’m just mad! And sad... so sad...&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have no regrets about anything I’ve done... I’m just sad... and broken... and confused... I just want to sto this fuc*ing crying... I want to stop... I really want... But... It hurts...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-5419041474422051327?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5419041474422051327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5419041474422051327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/06/just-thinking.html' title='Just thinking...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-8714434729491293136</id><published>2008-06-17T23:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T23:50:08.823-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Girls&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;are like&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;apples on trees.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;The best ones are&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;at the top of the tree.The&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;boys dont want to reach&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;for the good ones because they&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;are afraid of falling and getting hurt.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Instead, they just get the rotten apples&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;from the ground that aren't as good,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;but easy. So the apples at the top think&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;something is wrong with them, when in&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;reality, they're amazing. They just&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;have to wait for the right boy to&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;come along, the one who's&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;brave enough to&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;climb all&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;the way&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;to the top&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;of the tree&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-8714434729491293136?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8714434729491293136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8714434729491293136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/06/maybe.html' title='Maybe...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-8349155459577529240</id><published>2008-06-17T21:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T21:02:50.747-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sickness...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Roomie:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Si, te ves mucho más delgada... ¡Y hasta desaparecieron tus ojeras!!! Ya no se te ve la marca negra debajo de los ojos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo que 4 días sin alimento y en cama hacen por la belleza!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-8349155459577529240?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8349155459577529240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8349155459577529240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/06/sickness.html' title='Sickness...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-253749278196406365</id><published>2008-06-11T20:32:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T20:33:53.528-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 18px; font-size: 10pt; font-family: arial,tahoma,verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Como hacer a un lado el pasado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 18px; font-size: 10pt; font-family: arial,tahoma,verdana;"&gt;me confundes con piedra y yo soy humano&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 18px; font-size: 10pt; font-family: arial,tahoma,verdana;"&gt;como hacer a un lado el pasado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 18px; font-size: 10pt; font-family: arial,tahoma,verdana;"&gt;me confundes contigo y yo si te amo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 18px; font-size: 10pt; font-family: arial,tahoma,verdana; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Como si fuese tan &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fácil&lt;/span&gt; suplicarle a mi cerebro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 18px; font-size: 10pt; font-family: arial,tahoma,verdana; font-weight: bold;"&gt;que le ordene al &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;corazón&lt;/span&gt; que le anule cualquier recuerdo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 18px; font-size: 10pt; font-family: arial,tahoma,verdana; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;así&lt;/span&gt; de simple y sencillo me pides que te olvide...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 18px; font-size: 10pt; font-family: arial,tahoma,verdana; font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Ricardo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Arjona&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/28765725-253749278196406365?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/253749278196406365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/253749278196406365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/06/como-hacer-un-lado-el-pasado-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-1126885170009426813</id><published>2008-06-04T01:12:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T22:07:56.919-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A walking open wound...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt; This is where I say I've had enough&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;and no one should ever feel the way that I feel now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;A walking open wound,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;a trophy display of bruises&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;and I don't believe that I'm getting any better, any better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt; And I'm throwing away the letters that I am writing you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;'cause they would never do,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;I would never do, never.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt; So don't be a liar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;don't say that "everything's working"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;when everything's broken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;And you smile like a saint&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;but you curse like a sailor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;and your eyes say the joke's on me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;-Dashboard Confessional&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-1126885170009426813?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1126885170009426813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1126885170009426813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/06/walking-open-wound.html' title='A walking open wound...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-7903971413062952366</id><published>2008-06-03T00:58:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T01:01:30.364-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflexionando con  Milán Kundera</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;"Al emplear la palabra no-amor, no quiero decir que tuviera una relación cínica con esa chica ni que, como suele decirse, no reconociese en ella más que un &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;objeto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; sexual: por el contrario, la apreciaba como amiga, estimaba su carácter y su inteligencia, estaba dispuesto a echarle una mano siempre que la necesitase. No fue él quien se comportó mal con ella, la que se comportó mal fue su memoria, que, por su cuenta y sin la intervención de él, la expulsó fuera de la esfera del amor".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-7903971413062952366?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7903971413062952366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7903971413062952366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/06/reflexionando-con-miln-kundera.html' title='Reflexionando con  Milán Kundera'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-4920319171159283444</id><published>2008-05-29T16:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T16:10:28.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kaleidoscope</title><content type='html'>“And that doesn’t mean anything to you right now, because I’m just some girl and you’re, well, &lt;i&gt;you&lt;/i&gt;, but you and I have become something, intentionally or not. &lt;i&gt;You and I&lt;/i&gt; turned into &lt;i&gt;we&lt;/i&gt;, and &lt;i&gt;we&lt;/i&gt; turned into &lt;i&gt;us&lt;/i&gt;. So now were here, with a few mismatched words and nothing but each other to chase. Each other, and a happy ending, and who knows—maybe true love along the way, as well.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;-Kyoshi7989&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-4920319171159283444?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4920319171159283444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4920319171159283444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/05/kaleidoscope.html' title='Kaleidoscope'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-6084131593864453886</id><published>2008-05-27T01:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T01:31:32.549-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I will...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;I wish I could tell you all the things my heart want to scream. But I can't.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;I want to yell to the world that I love you. That I need you, and I would do anything just to being with you.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;But I can't say it. I can't because you keep my mouth closed. And when my words can't leave my mouth, my tears leave my eyes. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;Because I want to yell, to scream, to tell... but I can't. My lips must be sealed. Those lips, which needed every inch of your skin.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-US"&gt;And I just will wait. I'll wait until I can tell and scream and yell the world that I love you.&lt;/span&gt;&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/28765725-6084131593864453886?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6084131593864453886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6084131593864453886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-will.html' title='I will...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-3401274126808870419</id><published>2008-05-24T01:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T01:14:56.201-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not that Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ev'ry so often we long to steal&lt;br /&gt;To the land of what-might-have-been&lt;br /&gt;But that doesn't soften the ache we feel&lt;br /&gt;When reality sets back in&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;Don't wish, don't start&lt;br /&gt;Wishing only wounds the heart&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't born for the rose and the pearl&lt;br /&gt;There's a girl I know&lt;br /&gt;He loves her so&lt;br /&gt;I'm not that girl...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;"&gt;-Wicked&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/28765725-3401274126808870419?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3401274126808870419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3401274126808870419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/05/im-not-that-girl.html' title='I&apos;m not that Girl'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-1130374442451619423</id><published>2008-04-25T21:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T21:21:58.588-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Soy TAAAAAAAAN "Celebrity"... XD</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.myheritage.com/collage" title="MyHeritage - árboles genealógicos gratis, genealogía y reconocimiento facial" alt="MyHeritage - árboles genealógicos gratis, genealogía y reconocimiento facial" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.myheritagefiles.com/J/storage/site1/files/06/97/52/069752_70781687192184zsx6no29.JPG" width="500" height="574" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-1130374442451619423?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1130374442451619423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1130374442451619423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/04/soy-taaaaaaaan-celebrity-xd.html' title='Soy TAAAAAAAAN &quot;Celebrity&quot;... XD'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-7398740191650949236</id><published>2008-04-11T00:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T00:18:19.351-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Editando...</title><content type='html'>Como podrán darse cuenta, me metí al editor y pude configurar un par de cosas sin volverme loca con tantos malditos símbolos... Lo único que quería era poner éste blog en verde. ¿Razones? 1.- Creo que me estoy volviendo demasiado "Pinky"... he notado que muchas cosas mías son rosadas... Incluyendo mi esmalte de uñas =/. 2.- Soy una frikin' "Avatard" y quería algo que combinara con la foto de mi perfil. Y no, no la voy a cambiar. Si quieren ver una foto de mí, por ahi en entradas anteriores debe haber algunas, si no, para eso está el damn HiFive...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No mucho que aclarar... estoy en un hiatus de mi tesis por razones ajenas a mí, mi salud (como siempre) no es lo que desearía, estoy mejorando mucho mi lectura y escritura en inglés gracias a los fanfics ( :3 ), estoy en proceso de entrenamiento para convertirme en una "máquina asesina" (En TCG... ni crean que quemo calorías haciendo ejercicio o alguna actividad física) y después de un año estoy leyendo de nuevo artículos científicos... y comprendiéndolos O_o! He subido bastante de peso, pero en contraste... estoy comenzando a peinarme... =/  Creo que estoy más grave de lo que pensé...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y bueh... ya me dio hueva. Vamos a ver cómo nos va con el verde "Sticky Mucus", que según una de mis room-mate tapiza toda mi habitación... Creo que es una especie de tendencia... =/ (No, no me voy a pintar las uñas de Sticky Mucus... va a parecer que las traigo llenas de aguacate...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-7398740191650949236?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7398740191650949236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7398740191650949236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/04/editando.html' title='Editando...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-871172623933252980</id><published>2008-04-05T21:08:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T21:10:31.218-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Digan: "Owww!"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_g-5wXVnXI/AAAAAAAAAEg/RwKKrzMSM_A/s1600-h/04-04-08_2341.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_g-5wXVnXI/AAAAAAAAAEg/RwKKrzMSM_A/s320/04-04-08_2341.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185964132873379186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiempo de elaboración: 1 hora, aprox&lt;br /&gt;Material: Plastilina chafita&lt;br /&gt;Tamaño: 3.5 cm de altura&lt;br /&gt;Adorable &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-871172623933252980?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/871172623933252980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/871172623933252980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/04/digan-owww.html' title='Digan: &quot;Owww!&quot;'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_g-5wXVnXI/AAAAAAAAAEg/RwKKrzMSM_A/s72-c/04-04-08_2341.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-2850446722654533574</id><published>2008-04-04T21:05:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T21:06:53.359-06:00</updated><title type='text'>100 Random questions in English</title><content type='html'>(And their awfull anwers in a pathetic english)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Full name?&lt;br /&gt;Myrthala&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Male/Female?&lt;br /&gt;Pretty sure I'm a girl-NO WAIT! Let me cheeeeeck- Yep I'm a girl...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Were you named after anyone?&lt;br /&gt;My mother&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Does your name mean anything?&lt;br /&gt;Comes from 'myrtle', a flower&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Nickname(s)?&lt;br /&gt;Myr (Like the Russian space ship, or the creature in 'Magic' Trading card game)&lt;br /&gt;Moki  (loooong story....)&lt;br /&gt;Miu (hehe.. another looong story)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) What do you think you look like?&lt;br /&gt;Like my cousins...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Date of birth?&lt;br /&gt;Nov 12&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) Place of birth and current location?&lt;br /&gt;Saltillo Coah / Mex DF&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Nationality?&lt;br /&gt;Mexican&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) Astrology sign?&lt;br /&gt;Scorpius&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) Chinese astrology sign?&lt;br /&gt;Rat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) Religion?&lt;br /&gt;Cath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13) What's your favorite smell?&lt;br /&gt;My ex-boyfriend's smell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14) Political Position?&lt;br /&gt;Centralism&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15) What do you prefer to drink in the morning?&lt;br /&gt;Diet-coke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16) Hair + eye color?&lt;br /&gt;Dark red (dyed) / dark brown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17) Do you look like anyone famous?&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18) What do you look like?&lt;br /&gt;My cousins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19) Any unusual talents?&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20) Righty, lefty, or ambidextrous?&lt;br /&gt;Righty-tighty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21) Gay, straight, bi, or other?&lt;br /&gt;"Other"? What could it be "Other"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22) What do you do for a living?&lt;br /&gt;I do PCR's and RFLP's; and I'm cropping hundreds of Bean plants...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23) What do you do for fun?&lt;br /&gt;Read fanfictions, watch TV, annoy my room-mate XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24) Materials to work with?&lt;br /&gt;Test tubes, Thermocycler, Transiluminator... Everydays' things like that :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25) What kind of materials would you like to work with?&lt;br /&gt;Paper... I like Origami. Yarns, I like to knit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26) Have you met your grandparents?&lt;br /&gt;All four of them and one of my great grandmother&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27) Boyfriend/Girlfriend?&lt;br /&gt;Not now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28) Crush?&lt;br /&gt;Fucking yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29) What celebrity would you date if you could?&lt;br /&gt;Mhh... I don't know... Will Smith speaks Spanish very well, and I think he's cute...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30) Current worries?&lt;br /&gt;My beans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31) Favorite online guy/girl(s)?&lt;br /&gt;Huh? Benjos?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32) Favorite place to be?&lt;br /&gt;Recently, in my bed, looking to the ceiling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33) Least favorite place to be?&lt;br /&gt;My laboratory&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34) Do you burn or tan?&lt;br /&gt;Tan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35) Ever break a bone?&lt;br /&gt;Yes... still broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36) What is your favorite cereal?&lt;br /&gt;Special K, Honey Bunches and almost every cereal with marshmallows&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37) Person you cry with?&lt;br /&gt;My best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38) Any sisters?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39) Any brothers?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah... my older baby brother&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40) Any pets?&lt;br /&gt;No...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41) An illness?&lt;br /&gt;Right now a damn flu, and a damn tumor in my nose...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42) A pager?&lt;br /&gt;Hell no...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43) A personal phone line?&lt;br /&gt;Well... something like that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44) A cell phone?&lt;br /&gt;yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45) A visible birthmark?&lt;br /&gt;Errr... many sun spots...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46) A pool or hot tub?&lt;br /&gt;Pool. I hate to think that I'm washing myself in my own detritus D:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47) A car?&lt;br /&gt;I wish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48) Personality?&lt;br /&gt;I'm friggin' crazy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49) Driving?&lt;br /&gt;Haha,no, it's not safe for the world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50) Your clothing style?&lt;br /&gt;Jeans and  shirts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;51) Room?&lt;br /&gt;My little piece of heaven &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52) What’s missing?&lt;br /&gt;Mhh... No idea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;53) School?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;54) Bed?&lt;br /&gt;What's with it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;55) Relationship with your parent(s)?&lt;br /&gt;I miss them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;56) Do you believe in yourself?&lt;br /&gt;Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;57) Do you believe in love at first sight?&lt;br /&gt;Yes... I'm a friggin' sappy sappy girlish girl...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;58) Consider yourself a good listener?&lt;br /&gt;Yes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;59) Have a future dream that you would like to share?&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;60) Get along with your parents?&lt;br /&gt;Errr...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;61) Save your e-mail conversations?&lt;br /&gt;Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;62) Pray?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, when I need someone to talk to that won't bite my ass off when the judge me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;63) Believe in reincarnation?&lt;br /&gt;yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;64) Brush your teeth twice a day?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;65) Like to talk on the phone?&lt;br /&gt;NO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;66) Like to eat?&lt;br /&gt;I live for eat...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;67) Like to exercise?&lt;br /&gt;HELL NO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;68) Like to watch sports?&lt;br /&gt;A little&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;69) Sing in the car?&lt;br /&gt;no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;70) What is a dream that you have all the time?&lt;br /&gt;I never have the same dream twice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;71) Dream in color?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;72) Do you have nightmares?&lt;br /&gt;Very realistic and tragic dreams...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;73) Sleep with a stuffed animal?&lt;br /&gt;Yes... "Blueberry Bear" and "Emo Moose" :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;74) What's right next to you?&lt;br /&gt;Junk Food...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;75) What's on your favorite mug?&lt;br /&gt;Err... Kittens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;76) What's on your mouse pad?&lt;br /&gt;Don't have one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;77) Your favorite flavor of gum?&lt;br /&gt;Peppermint&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;78) Your brand of deodorant?&lt;br /&gt;AVON&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;79) Your dream honeymoon spot?&lt;br /&gt;I don't care&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;80) Your dream husband/wife?&lt;br /&gt;Someone who love me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;81) What's hiding in your closet?&lt;br /&gt;My Wii, thousands of scientific articles, flasks (Don't ask...), shoes, books, my Pokemon trading cards, official papers...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;82) Under your bed?&lt;br /&gt;A Security Box... and my underwear...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;83) The name of one of your closest/best friends?&lt;br /&gt;Beth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;84) Your bad time of the day?&lt;br /&gt;None in particular&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;85) Your worst fear(s)&lt;br /&gt;Automatic doors... falling in love again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;86) What's the weather like?&lt;br /&gt;F*cking hot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;87) Your favorite time of year?&lt;br /&gt;Winter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;88) Your favorite holiday?&lt;br /&gt;Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;89) A material weakness?&lt;br /&gt;Paper...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;90) The weirdest food or drink that you like?&lt;br /&gt;Raw meat... I love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;91) At the top of your "to do list"?&lt;br /&gt;Isolate symbiotic bacterias from bean nodules... Visit a museum, buy a GH3...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;92) The hardest thing about growing up?&lt;br /&gt;Arguing with my parents&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;93) A pet peeve?&lt;br /&gt;A lot of things...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;94) Your scariest moment?&lt;br /&gt;Last friday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;95) Your attitude about love?&lt;br /&gt;I'm so stupid about that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;96) The funniest or most desperate thing you've done?&lt;br /&gt;Mhhh... I can't remember now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;97) The worst feeling in the world?&lt;br /&gt;One-sided love...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;98) The best feeling in the world&lt;br /&gt;LOL! Love... I guess...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;99) Who sent this to you?&lt;br /&gt;I copied it from a blog or something like that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;100) Make up a better question than '5 People to send this too?"&lt;br /&gt;Can I have your babies, Brad Pitt?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-2850446722654533574?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/2850446722654533574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/2850446722654533574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/04/100-random-questions-in-english.html' title='100 Random questions in English'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-6414283042042508409</id><published>2008-04-03T23:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T23:40:20.214-06:00</updated><title type='text'>¡Basta!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Vete… vete… LARGATE!!!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;No quiero saber más… no quiero verte ahí… ¡VETE! Estoy harta. Estoy cansada. Tan cansada… No importa ya. ¡No me importa! ¡Ya pasó! Se suponía que ya debería haber pasado… No… Ya pasó. Ya nada importa. Ya no puedo… Ya vete… ya déjame…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-6414283042042508409?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6414283042042508409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6414283042042508409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/04/basta.html' title='¡Basta!'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-6432432550348876365</id><published>2008-04-01T20:57:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T20:57:42.000-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yo te necesitaba...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-6432432550348876365?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6432432550348876365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6432432550348876365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/04/yo-te-necesitaba.html' title=''/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-6810048715077139053</id><published>2008-03-28T21:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T21:44:04.532-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Over...</title><content type='html'>Bien... Terminó...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gracias a todos los que me escucharon... gracias por sus palabras de aliento... y gracias por estaro conmigo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-6810048715077139053?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6810048715077139053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6810048715077139053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/03/its-over.html' title='It&apos;s Over...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-8835589517598453171</id><published>2008-03-26T02:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T02:16:19.297-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Los milagros suceden cuando menos te lo esperas...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;26 de Marzo de 2008, 2:15 am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hola Myrthala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; 1. Recibi tu archivo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; 2. No voy a poder estar en tu seminario, puesto que estoy en un congreso en NY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; 3. Lei el escrito. Aunque la redacción todavía requiere mayor cuidado, los resultados parecen interesantes. En mi opinion los RFLPs, como ya te dije desde tu primer seminario, no son suficientemente informativos, tienes que secuenciar. El esfuerzo en digerirlos es el mismo que en secuenciarlos. Creo que a estas alturas ya deberias tener secuencias. Ya  tienes que empezar a secuenciar, no esperes a tener todas las cepas, creeme que no vas a terminar a tiempo si no empiezas ahora! Sin embargo estoy consciente de que te has esforzado, por lo que al regreso búscame para calificarte. Tendrás una buena nota. saludos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Cesar Hdez&lt;br /&gt;-------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uno menos y faltan 3... Pero ya es un paso adelante. Y estoy agradecida por eso.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&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/28765725-8835589517598453171?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8835589517598453171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8835589517598453171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/03/los-milagros-suceden-cuando-menos-te-lo.html' title='Los milagros suceden cuando menos te lo esperas...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-7797665026249698356</id><published>2008-03-23T15:29:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T15:31:02.676-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tragándome las consecuencias de la irresponsabilidad...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Si, soy una irresponsable. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Suelo dejar para último momento asuntos importantes. Y a veces fallo. Bueh… Muchas veces, dehecho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Se supone que cada semestre llevo una materia llamada Seminario. Durante el primer semestre, debo organizar mi protocolo de tesis, investigar teoría y práctica de cada experimento… en fin… hacer una planeación de mi trabajo experimental. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Los siguientes seminarios son para exponer los avances y/o la terminación de la tesis. Desde el inicio del semestre nos dan una fecha, que será en la que debemos exponer. Exactamente una semana de dicha fecha, hay que entregar un resumen corto del protocolo o los avances, según sea el caso, a los integrantes del comité tutorial. Dicho resumen ya debió haber sido revisado por el respectivo director de tesis. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Pues bien, mi seminario de Avances se realizará dentro de pocos días. Puesto que la fecha de entrega de mi resumen se atravesaba en las vacaciones, había pensado que lo más conveniente sería entregarlo antes de que comenzaran los días inhábiles. Eso me obligaba a entregar desde mucho antes mi resumen a mi director, a fin de que me lo revisara y poder corregirlo a tiempo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Por malos manejos de mi responsabilidad resulta que para cuando me di cuenta, ya era la semana de entrega del resumen corto. Y aun no tenía absolutamente nada. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Con el tiempo encima, intenté hacer el resumen un par de días antes del último día laboral, para solicitar a mi director que lo revisara rápidamente y entregarlo a tiempo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;El jueves, un día antes de mi día “D”, me avisan que el viernes estaría cerrada la escuela… Con eso mis planes se venían abajo. O lo entregaba el jueves… o hasta el primer lunes regresando de vacaciones. El entregarlo después de la fecha programada ocasiona una sanción en la calificación, por lo que me quedaba únicamente el jueves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;El problema es que… aun no terminaba. Y faltaba aún el visto bueno de mi director. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Viendo que no podría terminar a tiempo, hablé con mi director. Le comenté que aun no terminaba, y&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;en vista de que la escuela se cerraría a partir de ese día, podía enviarle el documento por vía Internet, a fin de que lo revisara y me enviara el archivo de vuelta con las correcciones hechas. De esa forma, podría enviar el documento por esos medios a mi comité tutorial, el viernes de vacaciones que originalmente era mi límite de entrega. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mi director asintió y por fin en la comodidad de mi casa terminé mi resumen. Lo envié de inmediato a mi director y esperé a que me enviara un correo con el documento corregido. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Y esperé…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Y esperé…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Y aun no llega. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Es domingo, y sigo esperando su respuesta. Si entrego mi documento así como está, es probable que tenga demasiados errores, y en cuanto lo exponga, me bajarán demasiados puntos. Y hay pequeñas posibilidades de que entregándolo mañana pueda excusarme sobre no haberlo entregado antes debido a las suspensiones de labores, y así evitarme la sanción. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Pero no puedo hacer nada sin el documento corregido. Obviamente estoy molesta con mi director. Entiendo que él merece vacaciones, pero es mi director de tesis, y su trabajo es mi trabajo. Yo, aun lejos de mi hogar, estuve al pendiente día y noche esperando su respuesta, en hoteles, restaurantes, en las calles. Incluso llevaba en la maleta mi bitácora, que se supone no debe salir de la escuela. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Pero después de todo es mi culpa. Debí entregar ese documento hace semanas y no me vería en éste dilema. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ya de por si mis avances son pocos y ya de por sí tengo algunos “detalles” con mi comité tutorial, ahora tengo la tacha de la impuntualidad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sé que me regañarán… sé que mi calificación será baja… y sé que es mi culpa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;No me quedará más que agachar la cabeza, responder a todas sus blasfemias con un “sí… lo lamento”… y rezar por que el documento llegue a mis manos antes del mismo viernes, en caso contrario, poco podré hacer por salvar mi calificación, y con ella mi beca e incluso mi permanencia en el programa de Maestría.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Otra vez mi irresponsabilidad…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-7797665026249698356?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7797665026249698356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7797665026249698356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/03/tragndome-las-consecuencias-de-la.html' title='Tragándome las consecuencias de la irresponsabilidad...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-3005997115306199341</id><published>2008-03-14T00:07:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T00:11:08.884-06:00</updated><title type='text'>^^</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="time2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: &amp;quot;MS Shell Dlg&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(18:50)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: &amp;quot;MS Shell Dlg&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt; Benjamín: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Lucida Grande&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;PRIMERO... ME AGRADAS MUCHISIMO PORQUE ERES UNA PERSONA CON LA QUE SE PUEDE HABLAR ABIERTAMENTE DE CUALQUIER COSA... SABES ESCUCHAR Y DISFRUTO DE TU COMPAÑIA CUANDO DIVAGAMOS EN NUESTRAS TERTULIAS LITERARIAS...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="time2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: &amp;quot;MS Shell Dlg&amp;quot;;"&gt;(18:51)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: &amp;quot;MS Shell Dlg&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt; Benjamín: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Lucida Grande&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;ERES SUPER NOBLE... ANTES ESTAN LOS DEMAS QUE TU MISMA... ERES MUY DETALLISTA... DADIVOSA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="time2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: &amp;quot;MS Shell Dlg&amp;quot;;"&gt;(18:51)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: &amp;quot;MS Shell Dlg&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt; Benjamín: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Lucida Grande&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;LINDA Y TIERNA...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="time2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: &amp;quot;MS Shell Dlg&amp;quot;;"&gt;(18:51)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: &amp;quot;MS Shell Dlg&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt; Benjamín: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Lucida Grande&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;ME PONE DE BUEN HUMOR PLATICAR CONTIGO, PESE AL DIA MALO QUE HAYA TENIDO.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: &amp;quot;MS Shell Dlg&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="time2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: &amp;quot;MS Shell Dlg&amp;quot;;"&gt;(18:52)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: &amp;quot;MS Shell Dlg&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt; Benjamín: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Lucida Grande&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;ME ENCANTA SABER QUE TENGO A UNA GRAN AMIGA DEL OTRO LADO DE LA PANTALLA... CON LA QUE TENGO MUY BUENA SINCRONIA Y PARECE ENTENDER A LAS COSAS QUE LLEGAN A PREOCUPARME...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, THX ^^&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/28765725-3005997115306199341?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3005997115306199341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3005997115306199341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post.html' title='^^'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-6760757399331278370</id><published>2008-03-10T20:28:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T20:31:22.877-06:00</updated><title type='text'>She's a Lady...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Well she never asks for very much and I don't refuse her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Always treat her with respect, I never would abuse her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; What she's got is hard to find, and I don't want to lose her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Help me build a mountain from my little pile of clay. Hey, hey, hey.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Well she knows what I'm about,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; She can take what I dish out, and that's not easy,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Well she knows me through and through,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; She knows just what to do, and how to please me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;She's a lady. Whoa, whoa, whoa. She's a lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;-Tom Jones&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&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/28765725-6760757399331278370?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6760757399331278370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6760757399331278370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/03/shes-lady.html' title='She&apos;s a Lady...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-7304651573541391010</id><published>2008-03-02T17:47:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T17:49:48.395-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'd Lie...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;And he sees everything black and white&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt; Never let nobody see him cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt; I don't let nobody see me wishin' he was mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt; Yes, I could tell you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt; His favorite color's green&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt; And he loves to argue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt; Oh, and it kills me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt; His sister's beautiful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt; He has his father's eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt; And if you ask me if I love him...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt; if you ask me if I love him...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;I'd lie...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Taylor Swift&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-7304651573541391010?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7304651573541391010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7304651573541391010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/03/id-lie.html' title='I&apos;d Lie...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-8512088442061045444</id><published>2008-02-25T19:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T19:41:14.408-06:00</updated><title type='text'>[Odio]</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Odio ese lugar… realmente lo detesto. Es un lugar muy hermoso… pero me resulta nauseabundo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Paso por ahí y recuerdo… La primera vez que estuve ahí… y la primera vez que te ví. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Recuerdo haber corrido hacia tus brazos y enterrar mi cara en tu pecho. No existía nada más para mí en ese instante. No existía la gente… ni el pesado sol de las seis de la tarde… No existía el aire fresco ni el ruido del tráfico.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sólo existía tu calor… y el latido de tu corazón. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;No quería verte a los ojos… y entre más buscabas mi rostro, más me escondía. No quería despertar… no quería soltarte. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Realmente odio ese lugar… y cada vez que paso por ahí… vuelve a ser aquel veintitantos de octubre… vuelven a ser las 6 de la tarde… y vuelvo a llorar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-8512088442061045444?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8512088442061045444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8512088442061045444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/02/odio.html' title='[Odio]'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-143179387533396382</id><published>2008-02-18T03:31:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T03:32:24.061-06:00</updated><title type='text'>... (21)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;"&gt;"...When he felt bad, I could feel his pain. I shouldn't have cared... but I did.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;"&gt;When he was happy, even if I was in a bad mood, my spirits would lift up. When he was happy, it made me happy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;"&gt;If he was angry, I would somehow pick it up like a disease, and stomp around like I was just as angry as he.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;"&gt;..."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;"&gt;-ThumperMiggles&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/28765725-143179387533396382?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/143179387533396382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/143179387533396382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/02/21.html' title='... (21)'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-7103675406351073320</id><published>2008-02-14T09:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T09:22:19.583-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bleh...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really... really... really hate this fuc*ing day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-7103675406351073320?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7103675406351073320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7103675406351073320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/02/bleh.html' title='Bleh...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-6344826762865535863</id><published>2008-02-10T21:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T21:06:27.833-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ay!...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Ay! Corazón roto, quebrajado!&lt;br /&gt;Ay! De dias tristes y nublados!&lt;br /&gt;Ay! Dicha no tengo, especulando&lt;br /&gt;Si tú algo de mí te has acordado...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Miyiku&lt;/span&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/28765725-6344826762865535863?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6344826762865535863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6344826762865535863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/02/ay.html' title='Ay!...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-8936903024936254572</id><published>2008-02-06T00:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T00:20:05.651-06:00</updated><title type='text'>... (20)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"Creí que estabas muy dañado como para amar a alguien...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me equivoqué.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es a mí a quien no amas."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;-Dra. Allison Cameron (House M.D.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-8936903024936254572?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8936903024936254572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8936903024936254572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/02/20.html' title='... (20)'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-8403672811764097469</id><published>2008-01-27T00:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T01:03:30.532-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Suicidando el sentimiento</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;La conciencia de amar demasiado… ¿Por qué uno no puede hacer verdad todo eso que nos relatan los libros, los poemas de amor, toda esa sarta de canciones que se oyen en la radio? Todos y absolutamente todos los tributos al amor. Si uno ama demasiado, ¿en que se convierte?... Obsesiva, loca, enfermiza, necia, lastimera… todas las he escuchado… todas me las han dicho. ¡Con un demonio! Es esa maldita impotencia…. Esa endemoniada sensación de todo el amor de mi vida no es más que un efímero recuerdo… ¿Una hermosa experiencia? Si, pero tan volátil que se debe olvidar y seguir como sin nada. Tanto sentimiento… tanto sacrificio… tanto esfuerzo… solo para mirar atrás y decir “si, fue lindo… a otra cosa”. Tan repentinamente… tajantemente... Es lo que me enerva… esa sensación de un amor incompleto… tanto amor y sin poder demostrarlo siquiera… Es esa ausencia… esa hambre de besos, la desesperación del amante lejano. Eso es lo que me desgarra el alma cada vez que lo recuerdo. ¡Eso, Maldita sea! ¡Eso es lo que me revuelca y me parte!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Es lo que me rompe y me hace ahogarme en llanto cada noche… ¿Qué no se llama “amor” si no es correspondido? Entonces que chingados siento?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;¿Dónde carajos quedó lo sublime de amar a otra persona? Lo sublime de querer que la otra persona sea feliz por que su simple presencia es suficiente para hacerte feliz a ti. Ese egoísmo compartido de la satisfacción que provoca el que la persona que tú quieres te quiere a ti. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;¡Maldigo mi sentimentalismo utópico, malditas sean mis creencias, mi insistencia, mi paciencia! Al demonio mi incomprensión y lo intrincado de mis sentimientos.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Versiones sobre esto hay miles… y opiniones, millones. Pero no hay más que lo que uno siente. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;¿Está mal? No sé… supongo. No creo. No lo sé…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;A veces sólo quisiera desaparecer todo esto junto conmigo. Volverme tan efímera y volátil como lo que fue. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-8403672811764097469?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8403672811764097469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8403672811764097469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/01/suicidando-el-sentimiento.html' title='Suicidando el sentimiento'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-5641442178654006401</id><published>2008-01-18T14:14:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T14:14:42.525-06:00</updated><title type='text'>AGGH!!! UAYSHGODYGASDUYGAS&amp;/&amp;!!!</title><content type='html'>Ok... ok... Acabo de abrir un Hi5... ¿Contentos?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span name="hi5urlspan"&gt;&lt;span name="hi5urlspan" id="hi5urlspan"&gt;  http://muzhka.hi5.com&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/28765725-5641442178654006401?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5641442178654006401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5641442178654006401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/01/aggh-uayshgodygasduygas.html' title='AGGH!!! UAYSHGODYGASDUYGAS&amp;/&amp;!!!'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-3803002159044124609</id><published>2008-01-14T10:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T10:31:40.609-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Donde lo habré escuchado antes...? ( ? )</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; text-indent: 36pt; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;—Pero ahora tú eres desgraciada —señaló. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;— ¿Y? —repliqué con voz desafiante. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;—No parece demasiado justo.  Se encogió de hombros, aunque su mirada todavía era intensa. Me reí sin alegría. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;— ¿Es que no te lo ha dicho nadie? La vida no es justa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;—Creo haberlo oído antes —admitió secamente.&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; text-indent: 36pt; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  ----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;-Edward y Bella, en &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Crepúsculo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-3803002159044124609?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3803002159044124609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3803002159044124609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/01/donde-lo-habr-escuchado-antes.html' title='Donde lo habré escuchado antes...? ( ? )'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-2847611966695235674</id><published>2008-01-13T23:27:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T23:35:12.557-06:00</updated><title type='text'>23/11/92-13/01/08</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R4ry0w6FcdI/AAAAAAAAAEY/YlDYQ1xsaKI/s1600-h/8768768.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R4ry0w6FcdI/AAAAAAAAAEY/YlDYQ1xsaKI/s320/8768768.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155199711774601682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll Miss you... Thanks for Everything...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;"&gt;... Esa noche, la última antes de regresar a mi patética realidad capitalina, salí al patio. El clima era fresco, pero agradable... Nada en comparación a los 4°C bajo cero de noches pasadas. El cielo despejado... miré las estrellas... Alguien me había comentado el día previo que intentó hallar algunas constelaciones, pero no logró ubicarse... Encontré mi constelación favorita... Orión, pero tampoco supe distinguir cabeza de pies... Volvió a mi mente el inútil intento de hacerle comprender a esa persona que desde una ciudad no se ven todas las estrellas de un mapa astral...&lt;br /&gt;Desvié la mirada... y la ví. Mi motivo de haber salido al patio tan tarde y con ese frío. Ahí estaba... en la casucha de madera que desde siempre se negó a usar. Su parálisis la tenía resignada a pasar las noches ahí, con sus platos de comida y agua a cada costado del portal de la casucha... Me acerqué a ella y me puse en cuclillas... (algo que odio, puesto que mis rodillas protestan enérgicamente al sentirse presionadas entre mis pantorrillas y el resto de mi peso).&lt;br /&gt;La saludé cariñosamente, y pasé mis dedos por la parte superior de su hocico, detrás de su nariz... La acaricié, sintiendo levemente su áspero pelaje en mis insensibles dedos. Intentó moverse, pero pareció recordar que estaba casi inválida.&lt;br /&gt;Continué llamándola por su nombre... diciéndole cúanto la quería... mi pequeñita... mi bebé... Tomé entre mis manos todo su hocico, y lo acaricié. Besé el lugar detrás de su nariz. Rocé suavemente el pelaje que salía de sus orejas, sabía que eso le hacía cosquillas. Movió un poco la cabeza y me miró fijamente... Sonreí diciéndole que no lo haría más y comencé a sobarle detrás de las orejas... su caricia preferida desde que era una motita de pelaje blanco de menos de un kilo...&lt;br /&gt;Desesperada ante su aparente dolor, la volví a besar, una y otra vez.  Un sonido gutural salió de ella, y eso me hizo abrazarla por el cuello. Me aferré a ella, soportando su pelambre, que había incomodado a mi familia desde hacía más de 15 años.&lt;br /&gt;Seguí hablándole con cariño, acariciando su cuello y su cabeza.&lt;br /&gt;Al fin me separé de ella... la miré sonriente y le acaricié nuevamente su hocico.  Le dije que me iba... que la quería mucho, que era mi pequeña... Me levanté y fijé mi mirada en ella...  No quería empezar a llorar... ella sabía muy bien lo que significaba el llanto, ya que me acompañó sentada en mi regazo innumerables noches mientras derramaba lágrimas sin cesar...&lt;br /&gt;Sonreí nuevamente y dije la palabra que tanto detesto decir..."Adiós"... Me di la vuelta y mis lágrimas comenzaron a salir. Detesto tener presentimientos... por que se vuelven realidades.&lt;br /&gt;No miré atrás... cerré mis puños lastimándo levemente mis palmas con mis largas uñas... me mordí el labio y miré nuevamente el cielo... las estrellas... sintiendo inevitablemente que ese sería el lugar donde tendría que buscarla desde aquel momento...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-2847611966695235674?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/2847611966695235674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/2847611966695235674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/01/231192-130108.html' title='23/11/92-13/01/08'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R4ry0w6FcdI/AAAAAAAAAEY/YlDYQ1xsaKI/s72-c/8768768.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-3312448092679911323</id><published>2008-01-10T03:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T03:37:34.638-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Me han robado mi identidad! ( ? )</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Palatino Linotype&amp;quot;;" lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"Había tomado mi decisión, lo había hecho incluso antes de haber sido consciente de la misma y me comprometí a llevarla a cabo hasta el final, porque para mí no había nada más terrible e insoportable que la idea de separarme de él. Me resultaba imposible."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Palatino Linotype&amp;quot;;" lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;-Isabella "Bella" Swan, en Crepúsculo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Palatino Linotype&amp;quot;;" lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;&lt;/span&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/28765725-3312448092679911323?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3312448092679911323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3312448092679911323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/01/me-han-robado-mi-identidad.html' title='Me han robado mi identidad! ( ? )'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-4872142115864999404</id><published>2008-01-08T19:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T20:07:34.962-06:00</updated><title type='text'>JAJAJA!!!! SIMOOON!</title><content type='html'>Eres un niño de los 90 si...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Comprabas papas a la salida  de la escuela por conseguir tazos, y la primera coleccion. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jajaja!! Dehecho por culpa de los tazos comencé a engordar... pero aún los junto de vez en cuando...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Tambien comprabas esas tiritas de plastico para tejer pulseras, en el recreo te ponias a tejerlas con todas tus amigas y nunca  pudiste hacer la 'vibora'. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;XD!! Todavia compro de esas madres afuera de los metros... y dehecho sabía ( y sé ) hacer la víbora, la víbora enroscada, el caramelo, letras, etc... etc...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Te parabas temprano para ver a  chabelo y pensabas que si fueras a concursar serias el mejor en la  catafixia. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Nahh...  Derrepente sí lo veía, pero tanto como levantarme tempra para verlo, nahh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Todavia te sabes, y con orgullo, los pasos de  'media  naranja'  Jajjajaa!! &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yo no, pero mis amigas sí XD, y la de "Me pongo mis Jeans"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Presumias a quien se dejara tu edicion  de 'la muerte de superman' y 'la muerte de spiderman' &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A pesar que siempre me llamaron la atencion los comics, nunca los compré...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Te acuerdas de cuando se murieron Kurt Cobain y Selena, Colosio, Lady Di, la madre Teresa de Calcuta y platicabas con tus amigos como si  realmente supieras de quien se trataba antes de que se murieran. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;SIMOOOON!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Leías 'goosebumps' &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ni idea...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Te daba miedo meterte a bañar o  asomarte a una coladera por miedo a encontrarte con 'Eso'  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;SIMOOON!!! Y le tengo pavor a los árboles por la película de Juegos Malditos... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Tuviste pesadillas por algun capitulo de 'Are you afraid to  the dark?' y aun asi, lo seguias viendo!&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  SIMOOON!!! Aunque iba a casa de mis amigas a verlo, por que no tenía cable u.u&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Llevabas lonchera de  plastico tipo caja a la escuela.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;SIMOOOON!!!! Mi lonchera ;_;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-En las noches, cerrabas bien  las ventanas para que no pudiera entrar el 'chupacabras'  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jajjaaja nahh... nunca creí en esa madre como la pintaban...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Sabías que Kimberly (el power ranger rosa) y Tommy eran el uno  para el otro. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;SIMOOOON!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Viste mi pobre angelito 1 y 2 y esperabas que  algun dia un ladron amenazara tu casa para poder hacer trampas  asi de cool. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; XD Dehecho tenía un "diario" con todas las trampas que se me ocurrían...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-En lugar de desperate housewives y lost, tus  series eran 'blossom', 'saved by the bell', 'clarissa' 'ready or  not', 'boy meets world', 'fresh prince of bel air', 'the nanny'  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;SIMOOOON!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-A pesar de lo que hagan, para ti, las gemelas Olsen siempre  van a ser michelle de 'full house' &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nahh... Siempre me van a caer mal XD &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Conoces y extrañas las  versiones originales de 'mi pequeño pony' 'las tortugas ninja' 'care  bears' SIMOOON!!!! ;____;!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Rentabas peliculas en VHS en el videocentro...  o beta!&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; JJAJAJA!! Simon!! Y las comprábamos pirata XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I-pod??... tu usabas un walkman amarillo y  cuando no tenias cassetes, sintonizabas el radio en el.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; A WEVO!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Lloraste cuando se murio tu tamagochi.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; AJJAJAAA SIMON!!! Y LO MATÓ MI MEJOR AMIGA XD!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Aprendiste a bailar la  'macarena', 'caballo dorado' y 'sopa de caracol' mucho antes de ir a las  bodas!! &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Dehecho cuando era niña iba a mas bodas que ahora... pero sí, sabía bailar esas maes XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-La muerte de Mufasa es aun uno de los sucesos  mas tragicos de tu infancia.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; SIMON! ;_;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Si eras niña, querias ser  una sailor scout, si eras niño, un caballero del zodiaco. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Eras"? Sigo siendo niña XD... y dehecho quería ser ambos XD (June y Shaina RULZ!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Te sudaban las manos cada que Oliver Atom se enfrentaba a  Benji Price. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jjajajaa Sudaba nomas de verlos correr metros y metros y metros por capítulo y sabía que eran 4 episodios de correr y uno de gol... XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Tu tambien querias estar enamorado despues de  cada capitulo de 'los años maravillosos'&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Nah...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Mordias la  base del frutsi para tomartelo al reves &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jajajaja!!!!! A wevo!! XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Eras sobrino del Tio Gamboin &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nu u.u&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Hiciste alguna de las manualidades de  'Cositas' &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Y me salían mejor XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Los tenis con luz eran lo más cool que habias  visto. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nahhh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Te daban 'domingo'  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;XD Mi abuelo nos daba 10 pesos (10,000 pesos de aquel entonces) para compartirlo entre mis primos, mi hermano y yo XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Cuando por fin  aprendiste a usar el dinero, cambio la moneda y tuviste que ponerte al  dia con los 'nuevos pesos'  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jajjajaja SIMON!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Sabes que la primera boy  band no fueron los backstreet boys, mucho antes que eso tu amabas a  los new kids on the block.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jajjaa!! esa era mi prima XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Conoces el significado  profundo de 'wax on, wax off'  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;En realidad... no&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Te sorprendiste mucho la primera  ves que viste una computadora y una impresora a color! &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Y me acuerdo que promocionaban en la tele compus de 2 gigas de capacidad como ultra máximo XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Alf &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; FTW!!!!!! ;O;!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Comer pastelitos crudos recien salidos de tu microhornito era lo maximo  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nahh... Yo usaba el horno normal desde los 4 años XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Veias beverly hills 90210 y melrose  place a escondidas. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nahh.... no me gustaban &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Cuando llego el internet, tu  todavia pensabas que una barbie o la reta con tus vecinos era todo lo  que necesitabas para ser feliz.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Odiaba las barbies, pero yo era feliz con la tele &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Alguna ves, te  pintaste el cabello con kool.aid, o lo intentaste...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Nahh...  Me tragué el detergente... ¿Cuenta?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Sabes que los dinosaurios se pusieron de moda gracias a jurasic  park  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sehh... pero me gustaban desde antes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Thundercats... thundercats... ohhhhhh  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;OMG!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Leias ERES y veias siempre en domingo para ver si salia la onda  vaselina, mercurio, jeans o kabah y hasta bailabas. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lo de Siempre es lo Mismo nahh.. pero sí compraba ERES u.u&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Veias las novelas con tu mama, 'el abuelo y yo' 'muchachitas' 'baila  conmigo', si eras niña, seguro&lt;br /&gt; jugabas con tus amigas a muchachitas y te  peleabas  porque todas querian ser Pilar.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;NUNCA SUPE QUIEN ERA PILAR!!!! PERO LA ODIABA!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Tambien viste  agujetas de color de rosa, y todos los viernes querias ir a patinar a  san jeronimo &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nahh... tambien odiaba esa novela... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-En algun momento te vestiste como fey, pescadores  con cuadros, mascadas en la muñeca, donas en el brazo...  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Las donas XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Seguiste la moda platinada en la ropa o te pintabas las uñas y  labios de azules y tonos electricos Sólo lo de las uñas XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Antes, Acapulco  significaba 'la risa en vacaciones' 'el acapulco fest' 'el cici' &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;SIMON!! XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Gloria trevi no solo era inocente, sino tambien tu idolo... &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Seh... ;__;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Tuviste un chupon de colores colgado de tu  cuello, mientras mas grande mejor.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dios... tuve como 10 chupones colgando de mi cuello XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Olvidate de Star  Wars, tu viste la trilogia de las marias de thalia (maria mercedes,  marimar, maria la del barrio).  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;JAJJAJaAA!! SIMON!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-El show de  xuxa. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"XU XU XU - XA XA XA!! Este ritmo nuevo voy a bailaaar!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Salias a jugar con tus patines de cuatro ruedas  en linea.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;SIMON XD!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Te acuerdas de haber visto los mundiales de  USA '94 y Francia '98  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Para el del '94 no tenía NPI de qué era el futbol, pero igual lo veía XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Lloraste cuando se muere anthony  en candy candy y con cada capitulo de remi. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;AAAAAANTHONY!!!! ;_;... SEÑOR VITALIS!!! ;O;;O;O;O;O;O;O&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Sabes que  antes de bob esponja, el fondo del mar estaba habitado por los  snorkels. ...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Y los odiaba...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Te acuerdas de jordi, un bebe frances que  cantaba 'Dur dur d'être bébé' y tu entendias y cantabas con emocion 'oy yu un bebe'&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;. JAJAJAAA!!! Pos se oía en todas las estaciones de radio el mocoso!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-A la cama te ibas cantando 'vamos a  la cama que hay  que descansar para que mañana podamos  madrugar'. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Nahh... habia otra que me gustaba más..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Cuando veias back to the future, tu tambien  querias tener un coche volador para ir a ver tu futuro... y sopresa!! ya estas en él, sin nada mejor que hacer que  reirte con  nostalgia de aquellas epocas tan maravillosas ya que ahora tu vida no es  tan divertida como antes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;... SIMON!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; YO  SOY UN NIÑO DE LOS 90´S&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-4872142115864999404?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4872142115864999404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4872142115864999404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/01/jajaja-simooon.html' title='JAJAJA!!!! SIMOOON!'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-831988115328458914</id><published>2008-01-07T21:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T21:36:37.822-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Otro de Escorpión...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Me gustó particularmente lo que dice éste...  dice demasiadas cosas de mí...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Características Generales del Signo:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afirmación Clave: Yo callo y Deseo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signo de: Agua, Fijo, Femenino, Negativo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Planetas regentes: Marte y Plutón&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Color: Rojo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Día: Martes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Número: 4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Partes del cuerpo: Vejiga y Genitales&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Piedras: Aguamarina, Amatista y Topacio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escorpión simboliza, en la naturaleza, la muerte de las formas. Es tanto el agua turbia como el agua viva y también la lava volcánica. Transforma, destruye, recompone, renace y, en consecuencia, es como el ave fénix. Es, al mismo tiempo, el signo de la vida y de la muerte, con su poder de generar la vida y sufrir la muerte. Esta es una personalidad de temperamento bilioso, regida por Marte y Plutón. Aquí se presenta una angustia de vivir, una sed de ser más, en lugar de lograr el bienestar. Es el signo de las pasiones, donde los instintos enfrentan compulsiones violentas: la agresividad y el erotismo, el cielo y el infierno, lo sublime y lo abyecto, el realismo brutal y el idealismo místico, el amor a la vida y el amor a la muerte. A través de toda esta vorágine de emociones y pasiones encontradas, Escorpión siente y logra la razón ulterior de ser. Su voluntad es indomable, y su determinación a prueba de balas, por tanto concluye sus planes con persistencia.&lt;br /&gt;Sentimentalmente, Escorpión es pasional, además es dueño de un potencial emotivo impresionante, que canaliza a través del sexo. Es terriblemente celoso. Ama apasionada, intensa y ardientemente. Su vida sexual deberá ser plena, pues de otra manera se mostrará agresivo, o tenderá a buscar en otras parejas la satisfacción que no haya encontrado en la suya. Escorpión puede interactuar emocionalmente con los otros signos de agua. Los Piscis serán sus grandes amores, y producirán paz y tranquilidad a su pasión excesiva; los Cáncer influyen en su filosofía de la vida y les dan la ternura que tanto necesitan. Con Virgo, un signo de tierra, se relacionan bien, por que ellos son sus protectores y ayudan a la cristalización de sus objetivos. Los Capricornio son sus amantes, pues la calidez de Escorpión deshace la rigidez y la frialdad de Capricornio. Claro está que se complementa con Tauro, y aunque puedan darse ciertos conflictos, éstos se solucionarán fácilmente.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-831988115328458914?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/831988115328458914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/831988115328458914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/01/otro-de-escorpin.html' title='Otro de Escorpión...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-160021783988429038</id><published>2008-01-03T01:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T01:43:58.716-06:00</updated><title type='text'>... (19)</title><content type='html'>Te enviaré un ramo de besos que hice con mi corazón,&lt;br /&gt;y en cielo dormiremos entre nubes de algodón,&lt;br /&gt;gritaré a los cuatro vientos,&lt;br /&gt;que eres tu la ilusión que llevaba dentro,&lt;br /&gt;y verás como es posible nuestro amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si los hombres han llegado hasta la luna,&lt;br /&gt;si desde Sevilla puedo hablar con alguien que está en Nueva York,&lt;br /&gt;si la medicina cura lo que antes era una muerte segura,&lt;br /&gt;dime ¿porqué no es posible nuestro amor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si la Bella con un beso convirtió a la Bestia en un galán,&lt;br /&gt;si las flores se marchitan y mas tarde vuelven a brotar,&lt;br /&gt;si hay abuelos que se quieren,&lt;br /&gt;y su amor es todo lo que tienen,&lt;br /&gt;dime ¿porqué no lo vamos a intentar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te enviaré un ramo de besos que hice con mi corazón,&lt;br /&gt;y en cielo dormiremos entre nubes de algodón,&lt;br /&gt;gritaré a los cuatro vientos,&lt;br /&gt;que eres tu la ilusión que llevaba dentro,&lt;br /&gt;y verás como es posible nuestro amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si hay poemas que se escriben con el alma,&lt;br /&gt;y miradas que se empañan cuando suena una canción de amor,&lt;br /&gt;si los ojos son sinceros,&lt;br /&gt;cuando alguien te mira y se escapa un "te quiero",&lt;br /&gt;dime ¿porqué no es posible nuestro amor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si en la caracola se oyen los rumores de la mar&lt;br /&gt;si las estrellas se encienden y más tarde vuelven a apagar&lt;br /&gt;si amanece cada día,&lt;br /&gt;si hay momentos que valen toda una vida,&lt;br /&gt;dime ¿porqué no lo vamos a intentar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te enviaré un ramo de besos que hice con mi corazón,&lt;br /&gt;y en cielo dormiremos entre nubes de algodón,&lt;br /&gt;gritaré a los cuatro vientos,&lt;br /&gt;que eres tu la ilusión que llevaba dentro,&lt;br /&gt;y verás como es posible nuestro amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;-Los Bacilos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-160021783988429038?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/160021783988429038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/160021783988429038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/01/19.html' title='... (19)'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-5168719329429904314</id><published>2008-01-01T19:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T20:01:58.297-06:00</updated><title type='text'>2008: El año de la Rata de Tierra</title><content type='html'>LA RATA&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;br /&gt;      Astucia, inteligencia, ambición, perseverancia, amor por        el lujo, elegancia, confiadas.&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;br /&gt;      Las ratas son animales inteligentes. Saben salir de los        problemas de manera muy airosa, aunque se metan en ellos        contínuamente. Son astutas: manejan a su antojo ciertas        situaciones. Son agresivas: quieren alcanzar sus metas        de forma rápida, quieren llegar al final aunque tengan        que sufrir y hacer sufrir a los demás.&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;br /&gt;      Con esto, muchos no las entenderán. Es posible que en el        trabajo, los colaboradores inmediatos tengan que tragar        rabia e impotencia porque no pueden seguir su ritmo.        Aunque no es su intención, pueden crear muchos enemigos.        Siempre buscará llegar muy lejos: alcanzar los puestos        más altos de su empresa. No quiere que nada le detenga:        ni siquiera los escrúpulos morales o de compañerismo. Su        éxito está por encima de todo.&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;br /&gt;      El dinero es un factor muy importante en sus vidas: todo        lo convertirán en dinero, hasta sus creaciones        artísticas, ya que también tienen tendencias hacia la        creación.&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;br /&gt;      Y fuera del trabajo, con los amigos, también es posible        encontrar incomprensiones por esta agresividad.&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;br /&gt;      Las ratas nacidas en verano son aún más agresivas, pero        tienen tendencia a vivir felizmente y sin problemas. Son        animales encantadores que atraerán a los demás hacia su        lado y convencerán fácilmente con sus palabras.&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;br /&gt;      Las ratas de invierno están preocupadas por el mañana y        por el sustento, tal vez con tendencias a la gula.&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;br /&gt;      A ambas, el amor por el lujo las convierte en algo        vulnerables.&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;br /&gt;      En el amor hacia otras personas, las ratas no tienen        problemas en demostrar afecto, aunque son más pasionales        que sentimentales. Si la otra persona no corresponde,        tratarán de conseguir su amor por los más diversos        medios. Son elegantes, atractivos y encantadores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pensaba en poner (como la vez pasada) un comnentario acerca de qué coincide y qué no sobre mi personalidad... pero no creo que uno sea buen juez de sí mismo... además ultimamente mis creencias sobre mí misma se han venido abajo...&lt;br /&gt;En fin... Feliz año de la Rata... (Supuestamente cargado de abundancia económica...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-5168719329429904314?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5168719329429904314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5168719329429904314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/01/2008-el-ao-de-la-rata-de-tierra.html' title='2008: El año de la Rata de Tierra'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-8395418979559862552</id><published>2008-01-01T19:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T19:45:47.884-06:00</updated><title type='text'>¿De mal en peor?</title><content type='html'>2004: El año de las desiciones... y las confusiones&lt;br /&gt;2005: El año de los errores&lt;br /&gt;2006: El año de los sueños rotos&lt;br /&gt;2007: El año basura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En verdad... si pudiera borrar un año de mi vida, sería el que recién terminó.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-8395418979559862552?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8395418979559862552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8395418979559862552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2008/01/de-mal-en-peor.html' title='¿De mal en peor?'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-5270378632616975342</id><published>2007-12-31T00:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T00:14:20.616-06:00</updated><title type='text'>We can work it Out...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;Try to see it my way,&lt;br /&gt;Do I have to keep talking till I can't go on?&lt;br /&gt;While you see it your way,&lt;br /&gt;Run the risk of knowing that our love may soon be gone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;-The Beatles&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/28765725-5270378632616975342?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5270378632616975342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/5270378632616975342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/12/we-can-work-it-out.html' title='We can work it Out...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-4967999174655363107</id><published>2007-12-18T21:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T21:27:49.329-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Despotricando...</title><content type='html'>¿Por qué diablos me preguntas que si aún estoy aquí?...&lt;br /&gt;¿Por qué carajos me bromeas diciendo que pensabas que a estas fechas ya estaría en mi casa?&lt;br /&gt;¿Por qué demonios me reclamas que no trabajo, por qué chingados me presumes que tus aliados trabajan día y noche, cuando hoy fuí a tu jodido departamento a las 8:40 pm a tomarle una puta foto a un puto gel en tu puto trans y resulta que ninguno de tus nenes estaba ahí?&lt;br /&gt;¿Por que mierda me comentas que en donde tú trabajabas todo era más facil, y los alumnos se quedaban a dormir dentro del plantel, cuando tú te vas a las 7 de la noche, y me dejas ahí con trabajo a cuestas?&lt;br /&gt;¿Por que chingados me dices que en "provincia" las cosas son más lentas y tranquilas, cuando nisiquiera tienes la cultura suficiente como para saber que mi ciudad es CIUDAD y es capital de un estado? ("Y tu pueblo... ¿Es ciudad, o ejido?"...)&lt;br /&gt;¿Por que carajos abres la boca diciendo que por que no me he ido de vacaciones si me reclaman por haberme ido en verano cuando NO TENIA MATERIAL CON QUE TRABAJAR, NI MAESTRO, NI PERMISO DE ENTRAR A LA ESCUELA?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Por que CHINGADOS NO SE METEN SUS PINCHES CHISMES SOBRE MI POR DONDE LES QUEPA Y ME DEJAN TRABAJAR EN PAZ?...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; *jadeando*...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;¿Por qué no me dejan tranquila...?&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/28765725-4967999174655363107?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4967999174655363107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4967999174655363107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/12/despotricando.html' title='Despotricando...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-3083235487502591432</id><published>2007-12-17T12:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T12:27:29.682-06:00</updated><title type='text'>... (18)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"I don't fight just because you tell me to...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I fight for you"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;-Saint Seiya&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/28765725-3083235487502591432?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3083235487502591432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3083235487502591432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/12/18.html' title='... (18)'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-8004892266934884267</id><published>2007-12-17T00:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T00:07:51.172-06:00</updated><title type='text'>...?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Cómo decirte que te extraño, si no puedo estar contigo?...&lt;br /&gt;¿Cómo he de decirte que me recuerdes, si yo misma quisiera olvidarte?&lt;br /&gt;¿Cómo puedo sentir que aún te amo... si jamás te lo he dicho de frente...? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-8004892266934884267?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8004892266934884267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8004892266934884267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/12/cmo-decirte-que-te-extrao-si-no-puedo.html' title='...?'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-1097334753635415078</id><published>2007-12-15T01:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-15T01:20:57.778-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Entonces... ¿Por qué me siento triste cuando no estoy contigo?...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;I don't think it was just coincidence that I met you&lt;br /&gt;just yesterday we were talking about how did it go in our love lives,&lt;br /&gt;and there we were with our brokenhearts&lt;br /&gt;and afraid to start a new relationship&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too soon to say that I like you&lt;br /&gt;and to say that I love you even more time will pass&lt;br /&gt;but I'm not lying when I say that for a kiss from you&lt;br /&gt;I could wait and eternity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then, why do I feel sad when I'm not with you,&lt;br /&gt;And when I think of you my skin bristles&lt;br /&gt;and I think I'm flying towards infinity,&lt;br /&gt;so why then do I feel that I need you and that without you I'm not the same,&lt;br /&gt;if it hasn't even been a month since we met&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then, why do I feel sad when I'm not with you,&lt;br /&gt;And when I about you my skin bristles&lt;br /&gt;and I think it's gonna be a great day,&lt;br /&gt;so why then do I feel that I need you and that without you I am not the same,&lt;br /&gt;if it hasn't even been a month since we met&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People talk about soulmates, speaking of a unique and true love,&lt;br /&gt;I'm always saying what I'm thinking&lt;br /&gt;and since I like what I'm feeling&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I'll let you go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then, why do I feel sad when I'm not with you,&lt;br /&gt;And when I think of you my skin bristles&lt;br /&gt;and I think I'm flying towards infinity,&lt;br /&gt;so why then do I feel that I need you and that without you I'm not the same,&lt;br /&gt;if it hasn't even been a month since we met&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then, why do I feel sad when I'm not with you,&lt;br /&gt;And when I about you my skin bristles&lt;br /&gt; and I think it's gonna be a great day,&lt;br /&gt;so why then do I feel that I need you and that without you I am not the same,&lt;br /&gt;if it hasn't even been a month since we met..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://es.youtube.com/watch?v=uz0EVUZmtT8&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Héctor Mosqueda&lt;/span&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/28765725-1097334753635415078?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1097334753635415078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1097334753635415078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/12/entonces-por-qu-me-siento-triste-cuando.html' title='Entonces... ¿Por qué me siento triste cuando no estoy contigo?...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-8444397235796545293</id><published>2007-12-12T23:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T23:15:49.134-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Huggin'...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R2C_-1opIUI/AAAAAAAAAD0/PTJLFl1Ky6I/s1600-h/hug.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R2C_-1opIUI/AAAAAAAAAD0/PTJLFl1Ky6I/s320/hug.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143321860727447874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-8444397235796545293?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8444397235796545293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8444397235796545293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/12/huggin.html' title='Huggin&apos;...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R2C_-1opIUI/AAAAAAAAAD0/PTJLFl1Ky6I/s72-c/hug.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-8157678653935593859</id><published>2007-12-11T23:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T23:12:45.463-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'd do Anything...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt; I'd do anything &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt; Just to hold you in my arms &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt; Try to make you laugh &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt; Some how I can't put you in the past &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt; I'd do anything &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt; Just to fall asleep with you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt; Will you remember me? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt; Cuz i know I won't forget you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt; I close my eyes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt; And all I see is you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt; I close my eyes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt; I try to sleep &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt; I can't forget you&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="txt_1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" class="txt_1"&gt;-Simple Plan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="txt_1"&gt; &lt;/span&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/28765725-8157678653935593859?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8157678653935593859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8157678653935593859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/12/id-do-anything.html' title='I&apos;d do Anything...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-6210282267472549006</id><published>2007-12-09T17:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T17:14:16.600-06:00</updated><title type='text'>De por qué una no debe pensar pendejadas cuando se depila las piernas...</title><content type='html'>(Untándome acondicionador en la pierna derecha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Maldita sea... hubiese comprado esa crema de afeitar en Laredo en vez de gastarme el acondicionador... Y nisiquiera es el barato...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-A ver si ahora si mis roomates pueden mantener limpio el baño y el pasillo por lo menos ésta semana... estoy hasta el queque de limpiar yo sola...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-¿Y si empezara de una vez a hacer las diapositivas de mi seminario?... Sé que la profe Lulú no tiene vida... Tengo unas ganas de decirle a su esposo que me importa un cacahuate que ellos vivan en la escuela... Yo tengo una vida... Bueh... si se le puede llamar así...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Pasando el rastrillo por la pierna derecha) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;...Tsss...tssss...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Además... si hiciera las diapositivas ¿Que pongo?... Le cambiaría el fondo tal vez... No tengo resultados...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Mmhhh... Y si lo de mi tesis es muy poquito?... La tesis de Yendi era casi una biblia de fijación de nitrógeno... con razón Ogro se orgasmea cuando habla de su tesis...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Untando la pierna izquierda)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Y ahí va mas acondicionador... Espero que no me dé la alergia... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Abriendo el grifo en agua helada)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-...tamadre... pero bueh... desinflama la piel...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-... Si le pregunto que si quiere un regalo para Navidad... ¿Que le regalo?... No sé si quiera algo del América después de cómo le fué esta temporada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Pasando el rastrillo por la pierna izquierda) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tssss....tsss.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Si se me acaban los tubos de PCR neta que si me largo a mi casa... Mhh... Aunque podría agarrar como excusa que he ido los sábados a trabajar para poderme ir un poco antes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tss....ts.....TRRRRRRR....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-FU#K!!!!!!!!!!!! %&amp;amp;%$#%!!!!!&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/28765725-6210282267472549006?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6210282267472549006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/6210282267472549006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/12/de-por-qu-una-no-debe-pensar-pendejadas.html' title='De por qué una no debe pensar pendejadas cuando se depila las piernas...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-4794496266319175130</id><published>2007-12-01T23:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T23:52:30.950-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ojalá...</title><content type='html'>G             C                      D                   G&lt;br /&gt;G             C                      D                   G&lt;br /&gt;G             C                      D                   G&lt;br /&gt;G             C                      D                   G...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em     D    C    G                D&lt;br /&gt;Em     D    C        Em                      Bm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C                G                   Bm                 Em&lt;br /&gt;C                G                   Bm                 Em&lt;br /&gt;C                G                   Bm                 C   D        G&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    G       C            D          G&lt;br /&gt;    G       C            D          G&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G                C                 D                       G&lt;br /&gt;G                C                 D                       G&lt;br /&gt;G                C                 D                       G&lt;br /&gt;G                C                 D                       G&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em     D    C    G               D&lt;br /&gt;Em                              C&lt;br /&gt;Em                           Bm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C                 G                           Bm                   Em&lt;br /&gt;C                 G                           Bm                   Em&lt;br /&gt;C                 G                           Bm                   Em&lt;br /&gt;C                 G                           Bm                   C&lt;br /&gt;D           Em    C                    D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GCCD&lt;br /&gt;GCCD&lt;br /&gt;GCCD...&lt;br /&gt;-----------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;-&lt;a href="http://lacuerda.net/tabs/m/mana/ojala_pudiera_borrarte-5.shtml"&gt;...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-4794496266319175130?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4794496266319175130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4794496266319175130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/12/ojal.html' title='Ojalá...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-4733311454692782249</id><published>2007-12-01T18:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T18:57:22.506-06:00</updated><title type='text'>... (17)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Si te enfocas en lo que pasaste, no podrás ver lo que te espera"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;-Chef Gusteau, de "Ratatouille"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&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/28765725-4733311454692782249?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4733311454692782249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4733311454692782249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/12/17.html' title='... (17)'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-4607720947373991416</id><published>2007-11-29T23:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T23:50:25.916-06:00</updated><title type='text'>KickMyAss/PLZ/THX</title><content type='html'>¿Alguien más se quiere apuntar para decirme mis verdades, criticarme algo, ¿blasfemar? en mi contra, insultarme, ofenderme, pisotear mi moral, burlarse, ignorarme, y cualquier otra acción no grata?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aprovechen, que estoy de oferta!...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;( &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" &gt;Y demasiado golpeada como para poder defenderme...&lt;/span&gt; )&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-4607720947373991416?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4607720947373991416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4607720947373991416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/11/kickmyassplzthx.html' title='KickMyAss/PLZ/THX'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-4232825152595656092</id><published>2007-11-27T09:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T09:12:01.078-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Que guapos paguen impuestos y compensen a feos</title><content type='html'>LOL!:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="a13g"&gt;Un ciudadano argentino, cansado de los padecimientos que trae consigo el ser feo, promueve una campaña para cobrar impuestos a las personas consideradas lindas .&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; Gonzalo Otálora, escritor de 31 años, desea que las personas poco favorecidas por la naturaleza sean compensadas económicamente por su fealdad, aunque su propuesta también tiene como propósito iniciar un debate acerca del culto a la belleza que se vive en Argentina, informó la página bbc.co.uk .&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; Otálora suele protestar frente a la Casa Rosada de Buenos Aires para que no se olviden los derechos de los feos, pues asegura que en su país los lindos tienen un mejor trato que los poco agraciados, entre los que él mismo se cuenta.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; Incluso, Otálora publicó un libro titulado Feo en el que describe todos los problemas a los que se ha enfrentado por no ser bello, desde el rechazo de las chicas hasta la falta de seguridad para obtener un empleo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; En un país donde las personas son clasificadas según se acerque su belleza al prototipo de los modelos que aparecen en televisión, Gonzalo propuso a Néstor Kirchner que lo recaudado por el impuesto a los bellos sirva para subsidiar a los feos y reparar así su sufrimiento .&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; El argentino quiere que sus compatriotas dejen de moverse en el terreno de la discriminación y a los feos les aconseja que se miren al espejo y se quieran.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-Tomado de &lt;a href="http://www.eluniversal.com.mx/notas/463820.html"&gt;El Universal&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-4232825152595656092?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4232825152595656092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/4232825152595656092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/11/que-guapos-paguen-impuestos-y-compensen.html' title='Que guapos paguen impuestos y compensen a feos'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-3278107219099723283</id><published>2007-11-27T00:11:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T00:15:26.091-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Clack... clack... clack...</title><content type='html'>Hace unos tres meses empecé a notar un sonido peculiar en mi rodilla derecha... Una especie de crujido largo y poco sonoro. Cada escalón podía escuchar el "crrrr... crrrr...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomé medicamentos y mi solución fué vendarme la rodilla por un par de semanas y untarme algunos ungüentos de arnica y menthol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El sábado noté otro sonido pecular, ésta vez en mi rodilla izquierda... Ciertamente éste es mas preocupante...&lt;br /&gt;Un sonido seco, un chasquido... "Clack...clack"... como cuando uno truena los dedos... de seguir así pronto mis pasos seran un contínuo "Crrrr...Clack!....Crrr..Clack!" &gt;.&lt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-3278107219099723283?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3278107219099723283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3278107219099723283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/11/clack-clack-clack.html' title='Clack... clack... clack...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-8269282410654322189</id><published>2007-11-18T23:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T01:43:35.453-06:00</updated><title type='text'>El regreso de un viejo amigo</title><content type='html'>Hacía casi dos años que no le veía. Y el conversar con él me hizo sentir como si no hubiesen pasado más de dos días sin verlo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por ciertas circunstancias dejamos de hablarnos un tiempo. No le culpo, sus razones eran más que válidas.&lt;br /&gt;Pasado un tiempo regresó la comunicación... pero yo estaba confundida, perdida, y fué tanta mi indecisión que le traté de una forma que no debía.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nunca fué mi intención... no quise hacerlo, pero no sabía que lo hacía.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiempo después... MUCHO tiempo después entendí realmente lo que pasó. Y me arrepentí.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy demasiado orgullosa... pero si no me disculpé con él o hablé sobre el tema fué por vergüenza, no por orgullo.  No sabía en realidad si estaba molesto conmigo. Según yo, debía estarlo.&lt;br /&gt;Tímidamente traté de hablar con él. Nunca le dije exactamente sobre qué quería hablar. Nunca le dije cómo me sentía. Nunca he sido buena hablando sobre cómo me siento.  Y por alguna razón, no lo conseguí.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pasó el tiempo... me fuí. Y traté de ocultar esa vergüenza, ese mal momento.&lt;br /&gt;Poco a poco comenzé a hablar con él otra vez. Pero unas cuantas frases intercambiadas por messenger no es lo que uno pueda llamar "conversación".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y hoy estuvo ahí. Igual que hace tres años, respondió a mi invitación.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Realmente no tengo palabras para describir lo bien que me hizo hablar con él. Platicar como no lo había hecho en años.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un amigo que ha estado conmigo en las buenas y en las malas. Un amigo que me ha aceptado como soy desde el principio. Alguien a quien podría considerar (Y dehecho así lo considero) como mi primer amigo verdadero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nuevamente le agradezco el haberme acompañado. El estar ahí conmigo. Haber querido platicar despues de tanto tiempo y tantas cosas.&lt;br /&gt;No creo que él haya tenido idea de cómo me sentí durante este tiempo. Como ya mencioné, es dificil que yo hable de estas cosas. Y si lo digo aquí, y de ésta forma, es por que me es casi imposible decirlo de frente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y aunque éste no sea el lugar ideal para decirlo, ni la mejor forma de hacerlo, sólo querio que sepa:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gracias, &lt;a href="http://redoura.livejournal.com/"&gt;Redoura&lt;/a&gt;. Muchas Gracias. &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://redoura.livejournal.com/"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-8269282410654322189?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8269282410654322189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/8269282410654322189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/11/el-regreso-de-un-viejo-amigo.html' title='El regreso de un viejo amigo'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-7247042779012895505</id><published>2007-11-17T19:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T19:19:04.207-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Esperar</title><content type='html'>Siempre estoy esperando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esperando a alguien... Esperando a algo. Esperando que me digan palabras que no me dirán... A que llegue una persona que nunca vendrá. Esperando que aparezcan sentimientos que no tienen razón de aparecer.&lt;br /&gt;Soy paciente... He esperado toda una vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pocas veces llega lo que espero... Y rápido se va. Y yo sigo esperando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El problema de cuando llega lo que espero, es que en ocasiones llega demasiado tarde...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y mientras tanto... espero. Y lo seguiré esperando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dicen que las cosas buenas llegan para el que sabe esperar. Pero... ¿Una vida? A veces... Muy a veces... es cansado esperar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Que si alguna vez he intendado conseguir por mi cuenta aquello que espero? Sí. Y nuevamente, se va muy fácilmente... Hago todo mi esfuerzo, hago lo que puedo... de verdad lo intento..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero siempre... por mucho esfuerzo que se haga... hay que esperar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-7247042779012895505?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7247042779012895505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/7247042779012895505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/11/esperar.html' title='Esperar'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-3465937974145328111</id><published>2007-11-16T00:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T00:18:36.805-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Siete secretos de lo que las mujeres quieren de ellos</title><content type='html'>¿Las mujeres son complicadas o simplemente no saben lo que quieren? Lo cierto, es que el llamado sexo débil quiere ser tratada con amabilidad y aprecian los gestos de caballerosidad de sus acompañantes. &lt;p align="justify"&gt; ¿Qué enamora a las mujeres? La revista &lt;a class="liga" target="_new" href="http://www.askmen.com/"&gt;&lt;i&gt;AskMen&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt; enlista algunos “secretos” que facilitarán la relación y que, en definitiva, ayudará a los hombres a tener éxito:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="a13g"&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Contesta sus mensajes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Ellas entienden que sus parejas son hombres muy ocupados porque ellas también lo están. Lo que las mujeres desean es que ellos puedan comunicarse en el momento que sus actividades se lo permitan. No se trata de enviar un correo electrónico de decenas de párrafos o hablar minutos en el teléfono, sino de escribir o decir una o dos frases para hacerle saber que están interesados. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Besarla sin ninguna razón&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Por mucho que ambos disfruten del sexo, la mujer goza con un beso agradable y apasionado, de forma sorpresiva y si la tomas de la mano, la verás sonreír por días. Esto tiene dos propósitos: Demostrarle que sólo quieres besarla porque la amas y, segundo, que te atrae ella como persona, no por su cuerpo. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Baila con ella&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Las mujeres son felices cuando bailan. Pero desafortunadamente, la mayoría de los hombres se rehúsan a pisar la pista o mostrar sus mejores pasos en público. Pero si están en casa, pueden escuchar algún disco de Marvin Gaye, dar algunos giros en la sala. De esta forma, el hombre tendrá control sobre la música y sus pies. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Viste para ella&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Arreglarse para llevarla a comer o pasear, es una excelente manera de impresionarla. No se trata de la ropa, sino tomar el tiempo para lucir para ella: una camisa pulcra y un pantalón de vestir pueden aumentar tu &lt;i&gt;sex appeal&lt;/i&gt; frente a ella. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Recordar fechas y anécdotas&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; La regla es nunca olvidar los cumpleaños y los aniversarios. Y la clave de oro: evocar las “citas insignificantes” así como las más “memorables”: la primera vez que le dijiste “te amo”, la primera vez que tomaste su mano, la primera vez que salieron de vacaciones juntos, lo que vestía la primera vez que la viste… los detalles que la deslumbrarán y te harán ganar puntos. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Compartir actividades&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;A la mujer le agrada pasar tiempo con “su hombre” fuera del cuarto. Ellas quieren experiencias con el hombre que les ayuden a crear una relación “tridimensional”. No se trata de ir a clases de yoga o ir a escalar montañas. Se trata de “enseñarle” algo en lo que eres un experto: jugar billar, tocar la guitarra. Ella amará tener atención personal. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Proponle una visita familiar&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Que el hombre conozca a las amigas de ellas, es muy valioso, pero que se interese en conocer a su familia, le demostrará qué tan importante es para ti que tenga lazos paternos. No tengas miedo de sugerir pasar unas horas con su madre o padre entrometidos.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-Tomado de &lt;a href="http://www.eluniversal.com.mx/notas/461598.html"&gt;El Uninversal&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-3465937974145328111?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3465937974145328111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/3465937974145328111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/11/siete-secretos-de-lo-que-las-mujeres.html' title='Siete secretos de lo que las mujeres quieren de ellos'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765725.post-1310699974423312881</id><published>2007-11-15T10:15:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T10:21:52.325-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ámame... Ámame como soy...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;Otro día más&lt;br /&gt;que se desprende de mi cuerpo&lt;br /&gt;una razón de amar&lt;br /&gt;de compartir contigo mis sentidos al cantar&lt;br /&gt;que entiendas que mi música es para ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Así quiéreme, así como yo soy un loco&lt;br /&gt;que te ofrece amor&lt;br /&gt;un despiadado amante de la vida y la pasión&lt;br /&gt;un soñador que insiste en ser tu religión&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te llevaré en mi voz&lt;br /&gt;te robaré el corazón&lt;br /&gt;me contaminas sin saber&lt;br /&gt;que tú eres parte de mi inspiración&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ámame tal como soy&lt;br /&gt;sígueme hasta el final&lt;br /&gt;de esta carrera que estoy cruzando&lt;br /&gt;súbete a mi corazón&lt;br /&gt;no puedo detener el vuelo&lt;br /&gt;de mi vida cautiva&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo te seguiré, en cada paso de tu vida&lt;br /&gt;me recargaré&lt;br /&gt;para absorber tus sentimientos cada anochecer&lt;br /&gt;quiero cantar contigo siempre hasta el final&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Así quiéreme, así como yo soy un loco&lt;br /&gt;que te ofrece amor&lt;br /&gt;un despiadado amante de la vida y la pasión&lt;br /&gt;un soñador que insiste en ser tu religión&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;-DKDA&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28765725-1310699974423312881?l=the-background.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1310699974423312881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28765725/posts/default/1310699974423312881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-background.blogspot.com/2007/11/mame-mame-como-soy.html' title='Ámame... Ámame como soy...'/><author><name>Miyiku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11713328017482983776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ol6ZQ1uiQfU/R_7x8ImUPVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/TO_xJjKXGV0/S220/avatar_122472_7.gif.png'/></author></entry></feed>
