Hai cercato la traduzione di try to keep myself from going crazy da Inglese a Tagalog

i try my best to keep myself
i try my best to keep myself

just try to keep up with me
just try to keep up with me

hello honey good morning from here please try to keep your phone on this morning because the agent will contact you once the box arrives in your country according to them avoid mistake
hello honey good morning from here please try to keep your phone on this morning because the agent will contact you once the box arrives in your country according to them avoid mistake

i'm doing pretty good and extremely happy with the way things are with my life now! i'm really afraid of the virus, no much movement here just trying to stay indoor to keep myself safe..its nice hearing back from you, i was just wondering if you have also heard about the good news going on too ?
targalog

hello dear i am so happy to inform you that i have sent out the box to your country through the united nation diplomatic service as i promise you, according to delivery agency the box will arrive in your country tomorrow weighing 20.5 kg, all you have to do is to keep your phone on to avoid mistakes because they will call you on the point of delivery to inform you the delivery method so try to handle everything with care and keep the transaction confidential for security reasons
kamusta mahal na ako kaya masaya na ipaalam sa iyo na ako ay nagpadala out ang box sa iyong bansa sa pamamagitan ng united nation diplomatic service bilang pangako ko sa iyo, ayon sa paghahatid ng ahensiya ang kahon ay dumating sa iyong bansa bukas tumitimbang 20.5 kg, ang kailangan mo lang gawin ay upang panatilihin ang iyong telepono sa upang maiwasan ang mga pagkakamali dahil sila ay tumawag sa iyo sa punto ng paghahatid upang ipaalam sa iyo ang paraan ng paghahatid kaya subukan upang mahawakan ang lahat ng bagay na may pag - aalaga at panatilihin ang mga transaksyon kumpidensyal para sa mga kadahilanang seguridad

i know how to keep myself calm when i am in a hurry. i know that you know that i can take care of you if you want to. pero salamat kasi.basta bam ² mag iingat ka ha.ang gusto ko lang na lagi ka ok kahit alam kona di mo papansin pero ok lang basta nakikita kita masaya kasama mga kaibigan mo.oo masakitt saki pero ok lang basta masaya ka.mahal na mahal na kita bam ²
alam ko minsan na iinis ka sakin kasi nag papalipas gutom ako. alam ko na ayw mo ko magutom kasi ayw mo ako mag kasakitt. pero salamat kasi nanjan ka para alagaan ako at iingat .basta bam² mag iingat ka ha.ang gusto ko lang na lagi ka ok kahit alam kona di mo ko papansin pero ok lang basta nakikita kita masaya kasama mga kaibigan mo.oo masakitt saki pero ok lang basta masaya ka.mahal na mahal na kita bam²

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