<?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-6088438137415216961</id><updated>2012-02-16T02:15:36.679-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the thing about anita</title><subtitle type='html'>ramblings of a certified schizophrenic</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinatonio.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6088438137415216961/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinatonio.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>tinatonio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17389379914991975300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__3877OWXEVA/SNoaAJqEMCI/AAAAAAAAAA8/9NuHqVd83Bw/S220/Photo+184.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088438137415216961.post-1303087165059758591</id><published>2008-10-06T03:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T03:52:25.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Achmed the Dead Terrorist</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-858d94d3f722fc2a" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" 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bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v20.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D858d94d3f722fc2a%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331779759%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D58C6591D0ADE5F68484885D6FA3188D2C6B7FE0A.3F95CFE6AB03DA6988015116260CB19F97994355%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D858d94d3f722fc2a%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DYSuHs7ZRfMy0pLLJ0GGFiajC1iA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6088438137415216961-1303087165059758591?l=tinatonio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=858d94d3f722fc2a&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinatonio.blogspot.com/feeds/1303087165059758591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6088438137415216961&amp;postID=1303087165059758591' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6088438137415216961/posts/default/1303087165059758591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6088438137415216961/posts/default/1303087165059758591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinatonio.blogspot.com/2008/10/achmed-dead-terrorist.html' title='Achmed the Dead Terrorist'/><author><name>tinatonio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17389379914991975300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__3877OWXEVA/SNoaAJqEMCI/AAAAAAAAAA8/9NuHqVd83Bw/S220/Photo+184.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088438137415216961.post-958805821043505044</id><published>2008-10-01T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T22:26:55.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sex Education in the Philippines</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was listening to the radio and one of the issues that the reporters were talking about was about sex education in our country. She was babbling about how we should teach our kids self worth to prevent them from engaging in pre-marital sex. Personally, I think that this is a wrong view of the concept of sex and self worth. In our country, sex is considered to be demeaning especially for those who engage in it at a young age but we must accept the fact that sex in a normal thing. We talk about kids getting pregnant at such a young age but that does not lessen their self worth. Why compare self worth to the act of sex? It is sad that there are people who think that sex dictates self worth. Sadder that they impart this kind of knowledge. Another issue is should members of the third sex teach sex education. This is a free country so why not? As long as they are considered to be masters of their craft they have the right to teach it. Also, it is the school's responsibility to make sure that the curriculum for this subject is rationally correct. Why not morally? Well here in our country, the morals are as crooked as the politicians. Morals may be based on rationals but they do not always mean that they are rational. Sex education should prepare the youth into the world of adulthood.It should teach the responsibilities as parents, their rights against sexual harrassement,different contraceptive methods and so on. Sex should not be treated as something that is wrong but something that you should be prepared of.&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/6088438137415216961-958805821043505044?l=tinatonio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinatonio.blogspot.com/feeds/958805821043505044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6088438137415216961&amp;postID=958805821043505044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6088438137415216961/posts/default/958805821043505044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6088438137415216961/posts/default/958805821043505044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinatonio.blogspot.com/2008/10/sex-education-in-philippines.html' title='Sex Education in the Philippines'/><author><name>tinatonio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17389379914991975300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__3877OWXEVA/SNoaAJqEMCI/AAAAAAAAAA8/9NuHqVd83Bw/S220/Photo+184.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088438137415216961.post-4628486309475563611</id><published>2008-09-30T19:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T19:57:04.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ninja Cat</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-d58f9ef44c9cf520" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" 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bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v20.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd58f9ef44c9cf520%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331779759%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D39DD8120F38B6F623E82C3DAF279640971CBD1D2.5AFC0C1DA4A5C761A703E5E886BA4C96148B23C0%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd58f9ef44c9cf520%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dl4wDIbYXiMoI6xbazdZyrZxZ_k4&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6088438137415216961-4628486309475563611?l=tinatonio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=d58f9ef44c9cf520&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinatonio.blogspot.com/feeds/4628486309475563611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6088438137415216961&amp;postID=4628486309475563611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6088438137415216961/posts/default/4628486309475563611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6088438137415216961/posts/default/4628486309475563611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinatonio.blogspot.com/2008/09/ninja-cat.html' title='Ninja Cat'/><author><name>tinatonio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17389379914991975300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__3877OWXEVA/SNoaAJqEMCI/AAAAAAAAAA8/9NuHqVd83Bw/S220/Photo+184.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088438137415216961.post-4706496339386173543</id><published>2008-09-29T22:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T22:44:22.771-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Failing : A Parody</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Failing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just a piece of paper crumpled and torn beside a trash can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm emo. Insecure even. I don't wear black but I do feel pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grades are just numbers I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet I feel stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just a piece of paper crumpled and torn beside a trash can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I shoudn't compare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For there are people better and worse than I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet I spiral down with this feeling of Sadness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just a piece of paper crumpled and torn beside a trash can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hate myself for not letting go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of something so petty as numbers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-tina&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/6088438137415216961-4706496339386173543?l=tinatonio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinatonio.blogspot.com/feeds/4706496339386173543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6088438137415216961&amp;postID=4706496339386173543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6088438137415216961/posts/default/4706496339386173543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6088438137415216961/posts/default/4706496339386173543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinatonio.blogspot.com/2008/09/failing-parody.html' title='Failing : A Parody'/><author><name>tinatonio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17389379914991975300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__3877OWXEVA/SNoaAJqEMCI/AAAAAAAAAA8/9NuHqVd83Bw/S220/Photo+184.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088438137415216961.post-7559811590050816532</id><published>2008-09-28T21:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T21:38:17.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>School, Passing and everything else...</title><content type='html'>The thing about going to school is realizing how much potential you have, the effortyou need to make use of that potential, and how inferior you are for not being able to maximize it. Or maybe that's just the way I think. I know someone, Andy- who failed over 18 units already. And yet, he still manages to sleep in class, send messages and chat with whoever available.Honestly, I envy him. Here I am, studying my ass out and there he is, prancing about, playingvideo games. How does he pass? I will never know. But well. Such is life. I guess, everyone isentitled with their style of living life. School is probably just a social structure built by the higher ups with the task to mold kids to conformity and as a reaction, mold deviance as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6088438137415216961-7559811590050816532?l=tinatonio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinatonio.blogspot.com/feeds/7559811590050816532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6088438137415216961&amp;postID=7559811590050816532' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6088438137415216961/posts/default/7559811590050816532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6088438137415216961/posts/default/7559811590050816532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinatonio.blogspot.com/2008/09/blog-post.html' title='School, Passing and everything else...'/><author><name>tinatonio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17389379914991975300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__3877OWXEVA/SNoaAJqEMCI/AAAAAAAAAA8/9NuHqVd83Bw/S220/Photo+184.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088438137415216961.post-896209865332467257</id><published>2008-09-24T18:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T18:03:39.829-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The forbidden dream</title><content type='html'>The thing about dreams is that you could dream of the wierdest things and wake up in the morning thinking "What the hell is wrong with me?". And so, the other night, I had one with me getting it on... with the one and only Jesus Christ. I woke the next morning thinking,"I am probably going to  hell..." and yet pondering on that dream made me realize the different possibilities of why I had that dream in the first place. So I came up with some theories:&lt;br /&gt;1. I was horny and the last thing I thought about was Christianity.&lt;br /&gt;2. i was horny and I had a hidden desire for the taboo.&lt;br /&gt;3. I was horny... period.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I thought... what the heck, It's not really my fault if I had a kinky dream with a God. Oh well...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6088438137415216961-896209865332467257?l=tinatonio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinatonio.blogspot.com/feeds/896209865332467257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6088438137415216961&amp;postID=896209865332467257' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6088438137415216961/posts/default/896209865332467257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6088438137415216961/posts/default/896209865332467257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinatonio.blogspot.com/2008/09/forbidden-dream.html' title='The forbidden dream'/><author><name>tinatonio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17389379914991975300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__3877OWXEVA/SNoaAJqEMCI/AAAAAAAAAA8/9NuHqVd83Bw/S220/Photo+184.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088438137415216961.post-4797550766165677622</id><published>2008-09-24T03:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T20:37:09.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The thing about love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;The thing about people in love is their ability to look at a person and see them to be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;perfect. Isn't it just wierd? A friend of mine, actually believes that her boyfriend was&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; the one for her. And yet she knows that he's cheating on her. No matter how much we tell her &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;that he is and forever will be a total asshole, she still clings to the idea that he is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; the ONE. Sad really,but still she is a friend and no matter what happens, I would always &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;back her up when all hell breaks loose.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Here's my favorite story about love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;-Love and Madness- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;A long time ago, before the world was created and humans set foot on it for&lt;br /&gt;the first time, virtues and vices floated around and were bored, not&lt;br /&gt;knowing what to do. One day, all the vices and virtues were gathered&lt;br /&gt;together and were more bored than ever. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Suddenly, Ingenious came up with an idea: "Let's play hide and seek!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;All of them liked the idea and immediately Madness shouted: "I want to&lt;br /&gt;count, I want to count!" And since nobody was crazy enough to want to seek&lt;br /&gt;Madness, all the others agreed. Madness leaned against a tree and started to&lt;br /&gt;count: "One, two, three..." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;As Madness counted, the vices and virtues went hiding. Tenderness hung&lt;br /&gt;itself on the horn of the moon, Treason hid in a pile of garbage. Fondness&lt;br /&gt;curled up between the clouds and Passion went to the centre of the earth.&lt;br /&gt;Lie said that it would hide under a stone, but hid at the bottom of the&lt;br /&gt;lake, whilst Avarice entered a sack that he ended up breaking. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;And Madness continued to count: "... seventy nine, eighty, eighty&lt;br /&gt;one..." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;By this time, all the vices and virtues were already hidden - except&lt;br /&gt;Love. For undecided as Love is, he could not decide where to hide. And this&lt;br /&gt;should not surprise us, because we all know how difficult it is to hide&lt;br /&gt;Love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Madness: "...ninety five, ninety six, ninety seven..." Just when Madness&lt;br /&gt;got to one hundred, Love jumped into a rose bush where he hid. And Madness&lt;br /&gt;turned around and shouted: "I'm coming, I'm coming!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;As Madness turned around, Laziness was the first to be found, because&lt;br /&gt;Laziness had no energy to hide. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Then he spotted Tenderness in the horn of the moon, Lie at the bottom of&lt;br /&gt;the lake and Passion at the centre of the earth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;One by one, Madness found them all - except Love. Madness was getting&lt;br /&gt;desperate, unable to find Love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Envious of Love, Envy whispered to Madness: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;"You only need to find Love, and Love is hiding in the rose bush." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Madness grabbed a wooden pitch fork and stabbed wildly at the rose bush.&lt;br /&gt;Madness stabbed and stabbed until a heartbreaking cry made him stop. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Love appeared from the rose bush, covering his face with his hands. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Between his fingers ran two trickles of blood from his eyes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Madness, so anxious to find Love, had stabbed out Love's eyes with a&lt;br /&gt;pitchfork. "What have I done! What have I done!" Madness shouted.&lt;br /&gt;"I have left you blind! How can I repair it?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;And Love answered: "You cannot repair my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;But if you want to do something for me, you can be my guide." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;And so it came about that from that day on, Love is blind and is always&lt;br /&gt;accompanied by Madness &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6088438137415216961-4797550766165677622?l=tinatonio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinatonio.blogspot.com/feeds/4797550766165677622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6088438137415216961&amp;postID=4797550766165677622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6088438137415216961/posts/default/4797550766165677622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6088438137415216961/posts/default/4797550766165677622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinatonio.blogspot.com/2008/09/thing-about-love.html' title='The thing about love'/><author><name>tinatonio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17389379914991975300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__3877OWXEVA/SNoaAJqEMCI/AAAAAAAAAA8/9NuHqVd83Bw/S220/Photo+184.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
