Archive for November, 2013


It was so high school thing for me. I just remembered way back when I’m still in my high school days, it was almost every night I was in the phone even though I’m with my friends the whole day at school. It seems like whole day were not enough for us that until night we still continue to chat over a thing or two aside from projects, homework and other stuff. Cause after schooling, I never had a long chat with person in telephone. I just used to be the one who answer the phone at home when it rings

But earlier tonight, that one hour and more was enough for me to bring back how we used to talked over the phone. Even discussed about that it’s been a while and what have the technology done to us. Sending messages via text, email and other kind of online services. In the end, I can say that it was still the phone that still the best way to have a conversation with someone.It is not because you can heard the other person on the other line but it feels like that person were just right next beside you. No physical appearance but the tone of voice can say something a lot rather than just reading it from a screen.

Isn’t nice when…

Isn’t nice when someone remembers every single detail about you, it is not because you keep reminding them but because they pay attention.


A word to state of making out of a way. 

I can say that it’s better to have this rather than staying in my other social network account. It gives me more freedom to write and say what I want without wandering what other people might think about it.

The title, let just leave it blank.

Honestly, I still don’t like going to office today but it can’t be. Cause I know there’s a lot of things that I’ve should do and I can’t do that, my conscience will just eat me up for doing that. And that’s absurd. But somehow, it’s felt quite good.

One more thing happened today, we had a little argument again. But what makes me happy about that. Is that after how many times I’ve told him that phrase, he just said “I’ll check it first, I might say something again.” Well, I thought he will continue the phrase with “Okay, I’ll check it first, you might cry already.” Because he remembered what he have read in my blog, that was a good one for remembering it. 

Anger = Tears

Tears fell every time I get mad. Cause it hard for me to be angry to a person whether in family, friend, casual and the like. Cause I’m not used to it to the state of being mad or angry that kind of feeling that makes me hard because you’re the one who wanted me to be mad. Instead of throwing up I ended up in tears rather than associate myself to the situation ending up causing much trouble and not clearing up anything that will end the situation much more trouble, I’ll just back off and stay away and cry just to make myself feel better somehow. 

Last week, I just cried because of someone. Last night, I’ve cried because of another one. I don’t want to be close to anyone anymore. Know why? Because it’s like giving them the permission to hurt you without their notice. And yet, you are very concern how you acted or treated them but they are not, they are just concern about themselves. If there any possible ways to remove all the emotions for the people you meet, I guess life would be much more simple.

I write to empt…

I write to empty my mind and to fill my heart.

A Flower from a Blind Boy

The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read

Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree.

Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,

For the world was intent on dragging me down.


And if that weren’t enough to ruin my day,

A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.

He stood right before me with his head tilted down

And said with great excitement, “Look what I found!”


In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,

With its petals all worn – not enough rain, or too little light.

Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,

I faked a small smile and then shifted away.


But instead of retreating he sat next to my side

And placed the flower to his nose and declared with overacted surprise,

“It sure smells pretty and it’s beautiful, too.

That’s why I picked it; here, it’s for you.”


The weed before me was dying or dead.

Not vibrant of colors: orange, yellow or red.

But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.

So I reached for the flower, and replied, “Just what I need.”


But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,

He held it mid-air without reason or plan.

It was then that I noticed for the very first time

That weed holding boy could not see: he was blind.

I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun

As I thanked him for picking the very best one.

You’re welcome,” he smiled, and then slowly ran off to play,

Unaware of the impact he’d had on my day.


I sat there and wondered how he managed to see

A self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree.

How did he know of my self-indulged plight?

Perhaps from his heart, he’d been blessed with true sight.


Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see

The problem was not with the world; the problem was me.

And for all of those times I myself had been blind,

I vowed to see the beauty in life, and appreciate every second  that’s mine.


And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose

And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose

And smiled as I watched that young boy, another weed in hishand

About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.



Boy…..oh boy. How much we need to see!

Listen. No problem could ever be bigger than the God whom we love and serve.

God is our Strength and our Refuge. And In Him we need not fear!


*something to be share, not mine…