Results for i've been though lot of these things translation from English to Tagalog

i've been through a lot of eati
nalipasan na ako ng gutom

i've been through a lot of trials in life
marami man akong pinagdaang hirap para makasama ka worth it naman lahat yun ngayong kasama na kta.

what stopping you doing some of these things now
that what stopping as now

im sorry i been through a lot of personal things that i didn't really tell you about that's why i've been acting this way
im sorry madami akong personal na pinagdaanan na hindi ko talaga nasabi sayo kaya naging ganito ako

ansaket lang ah i need to change myself to be accepted by the majority they won't accept me because i'm just ugly useless child malande potangina i'm so tired because if i don't think they won't accept me you won't accept me i know i don't have any you know about my special life but pls still with me because i'm tired of pretending to be others sad bat true i can't really go out and participate with people anymore, i'm just worried when i've been happy with a lot of sadness.
ansaket lang ah kelangan kong baguhen sarili ko para matanggap ng karamihan hindi nila ako matanggap kase eto lang ako panget walang kwentang anak malande potangina pagod na pagod na ko kase kung di ako mag panggap di nila ako matatanggap kayo di niyo ko matatanggap alam ko wala pa kayong alam tungkol sa potanging buhay ko pero pls still with me kase pagod na kong magpanggap sa iba

lord, lift me up for your blessings today. i pray that you will anoint me with strength and self care today, tomorrow, and always. i pray that you will grace me with patience and wisdom. i pray that you will encourage me throughout the day to take the correct steps to walk proudly, and behave well. i pray all of these things in your name. amen.
lord, lift me up for your blessings today. i pray that you will anoint me with strength and self care today, tomorrow, and always. i pray that you will grace me with patience and wisdom. i pray that you will encourage me throughout the day to take the correct steps to walk proudly, and behave well. i pray all of these things in your name. amen.

a low art [excerpt from the penelopiad] by margaret atwood (canada) now that i’m dead i know everything. this is what i wished would happen, but like so many of my wishes it failed to come true. i know only a few factoids that i didn’t know before. death is much too high a price to pay for the satisfaction of curiosity, needless to say. since being dead — since achieving this state of bonelessness, liplessness, breastlessness —i’ve learned some things i would rather not know, as one does when listening at windows or opening ot her people’s letters. you think you’d like to read minds? think again. down here everyone arrives with a sack, like the sacks used to keep the winds in, but each of these sacks is full of words —words you’ve spoken, words you’ve heard, wo rds that have been said about you. some sacks are very small, others large; my own is of a reasonable size, though a lot of the words in it concern my eminent husband. what a fool he made of me, some say. it was a specialty of his: making fools. he got away with everything, which was another of his specialties: getting away. he was always so plausible. many people have believed that his version of events was the true one, give or take a few murders, a few beautiful seductresses, a few one-eyed monsters. even i believed him, from time to time. i knew he was tricky and a liar, i just didn’t think he would play his tricks and try out his lies on me. hadn’t i been faithful? hadn’t i waited, and waited, and waited, despite the temptation — almost the compulsion — to do otherwise? and what did i amount to, once the official version gained ground? an edifying legend. a stick used to beat other women with. why couldn’t they be as considerate, as trustworthy, as all-suffering as i had been? that was the line they took, the singers, the yarn- spinners. don’t follow my example, i want to scream in your ears — yes, yours! but when i try to scream, i sound like an owl. of course i had inklings, about his slipperiness, his wiliness, his foxiness, his — how can i put this? — his unscrupulousness, but i turned a blind eye. i kept my mouth shut; or if i opened it, i sang his praises. i didn’t contradict, i didn’t ask awkward questions, i didn’t dig deep. i wanted happy endings in those days, and happy endings are best achieved by keeping the right doors locked and going to sleep during the rampages. but after the main events were over and things had become less legendary, i realised how many people were laughing at me behind my back — how they were jeering, making jokes about me, jokes both clean and dirty; how they were turning me into a story, or into several stories, though not the kind of stories i’d prefer to hear about m yself. what can a woman do when scandalous gossip travels the world? if she defends herself she sounds guilty. so i waited some more. now that all the others have run out of air, it’s my t urn to do a little storymaking. i owe it to myself. i’ve had to work myself up to it: it’s a low art, tale-telling. old women go in for it, strolling beggars, blind singers, maidservants, children — folks with time on their hands. once, people would have laughed if i’d tried to play th e minstrel —there’s nothing more preposterous than an aristocrat fumbling around with the arts — but who cares about public opinion now? the opinion of the people down here: the opinions of shadows, of echoes. so i’ll spin a thread of my own.
isang mababang kwento ng sining sa tagalog