[it’s where you could find me when you couldn’t find me anywhere else]

Everyday Agenda

Get Paid for Posting on Forums – Postloop

Earn Money Posting in Forums

I was recently looking for ways on how to make money online. I tried the paid-to-click (PTC) websites but it’s just too tedious and it doesn’t give away that much money. I clicked away merrily for over a week and I didn’t even make a dollar. Also, there are a lot of sites that just scam you into registering. There are a lot of hidden charges along the lines of, “It’s free! No catch!”

My advice? Don’t sign up on websites that require a membership fee. Chances are they’re just there to rob you.

Anyway, I saw the Postloop website while I was browsing for legitimate and easy ways to earn money. It’s a good thing that I checked out this website because it’s a surefire. You just have to post on different forums and get paid for it. The forums can be about a vast area of topics – teen life, anime/manga, gaming, relationships, sports, etc.

See? You can earn money while doing something you’re actually interested in. It’s not tedious. It’s not boring. You can meet a lot of people and be friends with them. You can give your ideas and opinions and gain knowledge in return.

And on top of that, you get paid!

I average $5 an hour and if you’re a fast-typer and has a lot of ideas, you can earn more than that. Besides, you can do this job at your own pace, in your own time. You just have to be really interested on the topics so that your thoughts will keep on flowing. Also, you need to have good quality posts and a good English grammar.

The point system is 100 points = $5. It is also the minimum requirement to be able to cash out. Believe me, it’s really easy to earn points, and consequently, convert them to cash.

So, if you’re interested, click here to sign up now!

Or if you have further questions, feel free to ask me here (just comment on this post), or email me at kiery_maven17@yahoo.com.

Earn now!

And because of the recent changes on Facebook, I found this.

I have a confession to make. I am so glad that I met you and although I haven’t said it before, I really like you. You are everything I’m not — understanding, responsible, thoughtful, sensitive, kind. I’ve always looked up to you, knowing that all I am is one selfish bitch. I know we haven’t talked much, because you’re always busy with projects and schoolworks. But I’m really grateful for those times you spent chatting with me, however short those conversations were, when I couldn’t sleep because of insomnia. I always bother you about petty things, and I’m sorry for that.

It seems that I have to find myself again. It’s one old cliche, but it’s the only appropriate thing I have to do right now. I don’t know where I’m going or why I’m going this way, wherever it is. All I know is that I’ve been so careless, so out of control, so tired, and so misunderstood. I wanted to find real meaning to this fucked up life. I know I’m being melodramatic right now. But hell, I wanted to be someone better than myself.

I wanted to love my course, which seems getting boring lately. I wanted to trust my friends, but all I did was to avoid them. i wanted to pour everything to my parents, but they were always busy with stuff and they got no time to talk to me.

I feel so alone right now and I don’t know what to do.

I’m sorry again, for sending you this pathetic message. I know you wouldn’t read it all. But I wanted to make the effort, nonetheless. I’m not important to you anyway, just an online friend with whom you talk to in passing. But hey, with those random conversations, you made me feel listened to. You made me think that i still have a connection with somebody, however small that connection was. Because right now, even my friends are too busy to hang out with me. And I’m always the whiny-assed loser friend they’ll ever have.

I’m sick of all the drama really.
I want to end this.

I might be out of reach for a very long time.
Thanks, Rhailee, for being my friend.


It was raining hard. Everything was pitchdark. I didn’t know where I came from nor where I was going. I walked and ran and tripped until my legs felt wobbly. I wasn’t sure if it was just a dream. I didn’t care. I wondered if this was my way of escaping and running away. From what?

I felt so cold and tired. But still, I wanted to go as far as possible, to anywhere my feet could take me. It was an eternity before I felt the world closing in on me.

I woke up in the infirmary. Angelo was sleeping, holding my hand. I couldn’t feel my body. It was as if I was floating. I was weightless. Was I dreaming again? Was I still alive? I just wanted to die.

It was one of those occasional breakdowns. Sometimes, I get fed up with all the stupidity and ridicule of life that I want to throw myself down a cliff, if there’s a cliff to be found. I think of all the wrong things I did, all those failures I made, all those problems and heartaches and pain. Then I said, if I were to kill myself, it wouldn’t be suicide. It would be euthanasia.

Sometimes, I get bored with the routine. Everyday is just the same fucked up shit. There’s nowhere else to go, no one good enough to be with. I get fooled and hurt by people I love. I get stalked by strangers. I convince myself that everyone’s going through some crap like me. But I’m not like them. I don’t give a fake smile. I don’t give a half-assed laugh. I’m obsessed with my burdens that I could no longer think of anything good about my life. I’m pathetic.

Sometimes, I just want to do something new. Like slash my wrist or jump off the fourth floor of our building or lie in the middle of the highway to get run over by a truck driven by a sleepy driver. It’s the excitement that ticks me to do it, the euphoria just before the crash, the blinding light just before I’m gone. To nothingness. To oblivion.

But death gives me a lot of questions. Would I get to see people crying over me? Where would I be? Is there such a thing as an afterlife? Heaven and hell? Would I return as a ghost and haunt those who hurt me so badly? Would I see the souls of the departed? That’s my dilemma. I want to die and yet I’m afraid of the unknown. I’m afraid of not knowing what happens after.

Yet, occasionally, I still have those moments of insanity. I still do it when I’m out of reasons to live. I still try to get to the other side, wherever that is. I sometimes lose my strength to hold on and loosen my grip on reality. Like now.

How does it feel to die? If only I could do it over  and over again…

“Wala. May naalala lang ako sa ulan.”

At natuwa naman ako kasi naalala mo rin pala.

First Conversations :)

You entered a crowded room without knowing a single familiar face. You sat in the corner fo a few minutes hoping someone would approach you and offer you a drink, at least. When no one came, you went to the bar and ordered something, a vodka maybe. Then you looked at your glass as if it was the most interesting thing around.

You were alone. And in a sea of strangers, you wanted to make a connection with someone. But you were afraid to make eye contact because it would lead to small talk. And admit it, first conversations are the hardest.

After an hour of talking to yourself and silently mocking everyone else in that room, someone finally sat on the chair next to yours and ordered the same drink you ordered. You looked at him (yes, he was a guy!) and smiled faintly. He smiled back too. You were dying to ask his name or comment on the music or say anything, in fact, just to talk to him. But he seemed to be looking around the room and waiting for someone, so you just kept your mouth shut, except when you were taking a shot.

Just when you were about to leave, he asked, “So, you were alone too, huh?” You smiled at the thought that he was looking around not to search for his pimp but to see if you were with someone. You went out of the bar with him and drove to a deli. You talked about lots of things, half of which you wouldn’t remember by the morning.

And as soon as you got home, you texted your best friend, “OMG i met this really cute guy and we are so alike!”

That’s how you first meet people. That’s how you make a connection with the world. You search for things you both like or dislike or care nothing about. You look for your shared interests. A common ground. It’s quite necessary that you find out about these things first because during the first conversations, differences seem to be like flaws. Faults. Dead ends.

You asked him once, “So, do you like The Beatles?” He said no. So you just said, “Oh, okay.” End of topic. That was a minus five on the likeness scale over there, honey.

See what I mean? No matter how alike you thought you were, you’re gonna find things that would make you think otherwise. As far as the conversation goes, you’re gonna begin to think that first impressions don’t always last. He hates your favorite ice cream flavor. You don’t like basketball or tennis. And you’d realize, you were just alike in some things. With the rest, you seem to disagree a lot.

Funny when you thought that this would go somewhere because you thought he was your soulmate. Because of what? ‘Cause of the fact that you were both alone in that bar at that night and drinking the same vodka? That had to count for something, right?

Actually, no. Sometimes, coincidences are just that. Coincidences. Funny traps of fate that are given assumptions by people too desperate to give meaning to senseless circumstances. Sometimes, two strangers meet and get to know each other because a certain connection, no matter how thin, is the only thing that could keep them afloat. So they hold on to that connection, destiny they say, because without it, life would be boring. People would be lonely and alone and drinking vodkas on their own for the rest of their lives.

Looking for common interests is a good thing. But finding differences and learning to love each other despite those differences are better. In a room full of unfamiliar faces, it’s just natural to engage in a conversation where you could tell him that you’ve been to the same Paramore concert that he’s been. That you both know the meaning of DOTA, whatever that is. That you both have theories as to how Amelia Earheart died.

But assuming that every conversation would be like this is wrong. Don’t ever think that the more you talk, the more similarities you’re gonna find out. Honestly, first conversations are the most shallow ones. If you stop talking to him after you learned that he doesn’t watch your favorite TV show, then you’re never gonna find out his whole personality. Who he really is.

Think again. In this world, you’re not looking for a copycat of your personality. Conversations are made healthy by debates and disagreements and petty fights. If you’re not up for that, then all you’re gonna have are first talks. No second, no third, no next. If you’re too close-minded about similarities and differences, well, hello reality! All you’re ever gonna find are people as different as you are. If you couldn’t accept that, stop going to a room full of nameless people, shut yourself at your apartment, and be as anonymous as everyone else.

Last Night.

There are mistakes you’d be lucky to get away with. You could sneak out with an alibi, an excuse, or a petty reason. But when your luck ran out, you’d end up getting caught. There’s no way out.

Site stats.

Seriously? People have gotten bored today, huh? Anyway, thanks for reading my posts, though most of them are all trashy. Haha! And please, to the one who constantly searches for My Hideout, I wanna know you. I think it’s too much of a coincidence if random people searches for those words every day. So, I guess it’s the same person. Anyway, thanks again. I will post happier ones next time, I hope.