Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Kun Faya Kun




From Him we came, to Him we return.
I was browsing my Facebook account that suddenly I came across this.



Well again, another post from me about death.(click here for the previous post)
This time. It is about my junior. A friend of Ron(my sister). So he was just 18. 18??? Yes, 18.
Pretty young in anybody's book huh? He had suffered leukemia for about 2 years, had coma for about 4 days before he had his last breath.

He never knew that 2 years ago that he will left this world. He never knew. Never.

And now I'm thinking about myself. I just reach 19. Oh Alhamdulillah. Of course, there are a lot of things that I want to do. But but but but... Will I get the chance to do what I want to do? I don't know. And I'll never know.

What happens if He call me next? Really, I really can't think. As for now, I just want to say this.

I am sorry for all my wrongdoings. Really sorry. Truly sorry. I hope you find in your heart to forgive me for I don't have the intention to hurt you. Please, forgive me :'(

I am sorry.


Let's Repent |Forgive me Ya Allah.

p/s:Al-Fatihah tu Amirul Mujahid aka Pak Cik Kordi. May Allah bless him.


Bui-bui.



Saturday, April 16, 2011

An egg, once broken remains broken.



Salam and hello Malaysians! (err,you're not Malaysians? Okay, hello whatever-you-might-be-then)

I'm gonna tell all'o'ya a very valuable story this time.
Nahh..here it goes.

There was once a kindergarten teacher who is in charge in a hyperactive class. Everyday, the students will always come up with problems. So like always, it happens on this fine Monday morning.

That day, a fight broke out between between two boys.
The blonde male child of course screamed "He started it!" while the male child with black hair exclaimed "He call me fat!"

Then, both of them were brought to the principal. The principal asked "What's going on between you two?"
"He punched me"said the blonde boy.

"He call me fat and said that I looked like a hippo." said the teary-eyed black-haired boy, obviously feeling the pain of the hippopotamus at being dissed with such an insult.

The next day, the teacher had come up with a plan.

"Class, today we're going to to have an experiment. I need a volunteer to help me. Anyone?"
As usual, the volunteer Stephanie raised her hand.

"Yes Stephanie, come to the front."
"Alright, I have an egg. Stephanie will help me to crack it. I want all of you to observe what happens to the egg."

After Stephanie had finished cracking the egg, she went back to her sit.

"Now, anyone could tell me what you saw?"
"Yes Elle." She pointed to a girl that had been raising her hand since morning.

"The calcium layer of the egg was successfully fissured and the albumen, as well as the nucleus or the yolk as we call it spilled out, although the vitelline was successfully kept intact."

Just managing to prevent her jaw from dropping to the very detailed observation made by Elle, the teacher replied, " Very good Elle."

"Now, does any one of you know how to put the egg back to in its shell?"

The class did not have an answer, not even genius Elle (not that she lacked the brain power, it's just that it was out of her zone of proximal development).

"Come on, who can answer me.I'm waiting.." The teacher teased quite unethically, although she did have her point, as we're about to find out.

"Teacher, we can't put the egg back in its shell. It's just impossible!" Exclaimed Elle.

"Correct you again Elle! We can't put the egg back together. And you know why? An egg once broken, remains broken," while turning to the two boys that fought the day before. "The same is true with words. Every time a word leaves a mouth, it can never return. That's why we should be careful of what we say to others. Words can be hurtful and may even ruin a future, like breaking an egg."

At this, the blonde-haired boy stood up, walked all of 5 feet to the weight-abled classmate and said "I'm sorry I called you fat."

"I'm sorry I punched you," answered the child.

The teacher smiled, and the class was back to its old noisy self again.

p/s: This story is an adaptation from a book; Life Is An Open Secret.



Soooooo... do you get the point?
I'm sure you do.

Here, I would like to apologize to anyone and everyone that have been hurt by my egg-breaking, or word blurting. I know that my mouth runs without having to consult my brain most of the times, and this results in a lot of hurt for others.

I truly am sorry, for I never say something that would hurts my friends intentionally (if u're not my friend, then that's a different story). Friends, family, if I have ever blurted something out of my mouth capriciously and it resulted in your feelings being affected in a negative way, I hope you find it in your hearts to forgive me, for I am nothing without you.

Sorry again!

Bui-bui.


Wednesday, April 6, 2011

83220 days of living.






Huh, quite a number huh?
Well, that is actually the period of time that I've been given by Him so far to still breathe.
Alhamdulillah...

It's been two days since my birthday.
Make me 19+2days years old now.

Of course I feel happy, glad and whatever feeling that you have when it is your birthday.
Thanks to those people who had wish me.
It doesn't matter if you knew it by Facebook or what.
Still, thanks to you.

B.I.R.T.H.D.A..Y,
It is really a great day huh?
Yeah of course, as it is the only day when sooooooooooo many people,
Text you. Call you. Write HB stuff on your Facebook wall. Give you gift. Treat you meal. Sing HB song to you.

Wahlah!
Great ain't it?

But the most great thing is when


"PEOPLE REMEMBER YOU"


Yes, it feels super great to be remember.
It's a kinda feeling like receiving Bugatti Veyron or Lamborghini Reventon and et cetera.
Yes, this is trueee. So trueee.
Nahh.. this is more great.
When people impatiently text/call you earlier before the clock strike to 12.00 am.
It really feels that you're remembered (you're important).
Thanks, thanks, thanks, thanks, thanks. and thanks. and thanks.
I like it berry multi berry much.
I guess, that's all for this birthday post.

Bui-bui.