Вы искали: can i know more about you if don't mind (Английский - Тагальский)

can i know more about you if don't mind
maaari ko bang malaman ang tungkol sa iyo kung wala sa isip

can i ask you? if you don't mind
pwede ba kitang tanungin? kung wala kang pakialam

hi, do i know you if you don't mind
hi do i know you if you don't mind

i want to know more about you
tagalog

can i ask you? plz block you if u don't mind it
pwede ba kitang tanungin? kung wala kang pakialam

i'm really excited to have you here i would love to know more about you
gusto kong malaman ang higit pa tungkol sa iyo

ano ba trip mo na activities? to know more about you
can i know more about you? ano ba trip mo na activities?

i want to know more about you and i dont mind coming to your country once am done with my sirvice here i hope to hear from you again
tagalog

if you don't mind can you send me your whatsapp number so that we can talk and know more about ourself
if you don't mind can you send me your whatsapp number so that we can talk and know more about ourself

beautiful can i know much about you before we proceed our conversation ... i'll like to know what's your .. name...? age...? country? job?
handsome can i know much about you before we proceed our conversation ... i'll like to know what's your .. name...? age...? country? job?

it's lovely you got back to me i'll love to know more about you before discussing so tell me do you live alone or with family you got or kids what state and city in canada are you now what do you for work and if youll be up for fun during the weekends,, like going out to beach or somewhere to chill with your friends or family anticipating your reply i'll also mine too hehehe
it 's lovely you got back to me i' ll love to know more about you before discuss so tell me do you live alone or with family you got or kids what state and city in canada are you now what do you for work and if you 'll be up for fun during the weekend,, like going out to beach or somewhere to chill with your friends or family anticipating your reply i' ll also mine too hehehe

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