Sie suchten nach: so i had to leave hause i wanted to strang... (Englisch - Tagalog)

i had to leave
kailangan kong umalis

so, i had to have him killed.
sugita: kaya naman, ipinaligpit ko siya.

the pain i had to leave without jow
ang sakit kong iwan nang jowa

so i had to grow old
kaya kinailangan ko umabsent ng trabaho

i dont like to let you go,but i wanted to see you happy so i let you go
i dont like to let you go,but i wanted to see you happy so i let you go

there was no taxi, so i had to walk home.
dahil walang taksi, napalakad akong pabalik sa bahay.

my cash card was never updated so i wanted to put my salary in my other cash card
yong cash card ko dati ay hindi na updated gusto ko eh pasok yong salary ko sa other cash card ko ito yong account number ko

i have na dwg file. baseplan. for that, i had to do piping so i couldn't make a floor plan
meron ka ba dwg file. baseplan. para doon nalang ako mag lagay ng piping para hinde n ako gumawa ng floor plan

did you know earlier woman i went to work to get my salary i case they haven't given it to me on saturday so i went home while i was walking i saw a nice shoe i wanted to buy the case expensive hahaha i just let it go
alam mo ba kanina babae nag punta ako sa trabaho para sana kunin yung sahod ko pero hindi pa nila binibigay sa sabado padaw pwedi kunin so umuwi nalang ako habang nag lalakad ako nakakita ako ng sapatos ang ganda gusto ko sana bilhin pero ang mahal hahaha so binitawan ko nalang

then i realized that i was not the only one who was experiencing the neto, there were also many who were experiencing what i was going through, so i told myself that i had to do something, i would use this opportunity to inspire people. in our dark experience.
dun ko napagtanto hindi lang pala ako ang nakakaranans neto marami rin pala ang nakakaranas ng napagdadaanan ko kaya sinabi ko sa sarili ko na kailangan may gawin ako gagamitin kona ang pagkakataon na ito upang makainspire ng tao sabay sabay nating tigilan ang ganitong sitwasyon lalaban tayo at babangon sa madilim nating karanasan.

ira i just saw you over here & i think you're absolutely stunning so i had to come over and risk embarrassment and say ‘hi’ シ
gusto kong pumunta dito ngayong gabi

because i wanted to heal you so much the first time i fell in love with you, why is there a problem because no one likes me so i chose you because you are nothing else but you you should love yourself can you love me when we become friends do you like someone else or no one likes you so i just loved them forever can you love me or not because when you are away from me but i will be sad or angry so please do you love me
kasi gusto kitang mahaling kaya't first time ko lang nagka inlove para sa iyo, bakit may problem kaba ha kasi walang nangugusto sa akin kaya't ikaw ang pinili ko kasi walanang iba kundi ikaw na lamang dapat mong mahalin ang sarili mo puwede mo ba ako mahalin kailan ba tayo naging jowa may gusto ka ba sa iba o wala naman nangugusto sa iyo kaya't minahal lang kila forever mamahalin mo ba ako o hindi kasi kapag nilayuan mo ako kundi magiging malungkot ako o may galit kaya't please mahalin mo ba ako o hindi i'm promise girlfriend hindi kita iiwanan at hindi rin kita pababayaan nandito nang ako nasa tabi mo lang ako kaya't mahal na mahal kita kaya't l love you

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