I Wish
by: Robert A. Ward, Source Unknown

I wish you the courage to be warm when the world would prefer that you be cool.
I wish you success sufficient to your needs;
I wish you failure to temper that success.
I wish you joy in all your days;
I wish you sadness so that you may better measure joy.
I wish you gladness to overbalance your grief.
I wish you humor and a twinkle in your eye.
I wish you glory and the strength to bear its burdens.
I wish you sunshine on your path and health to carry you on your journey.
I wish you peace -- in the world in which you live and in the smallest corner of you heart where truth is kept.
I wish you faith -- to help define your living and your life.
More I cannot wish you -- except perhaps love -- to make all the rest worthwhile.




Reading "Sophie's World" by Jostein Gaarder. One sentance caught my eye..
"Having a conscience is not the same as using it.." Socretes believed that conscience is the same for everyone, unlike the Sophists. I tot so too.. I tot conscience meant the same thing for everyone. But maybe not.. maybe.. But then again, having a conscience is not the same as using it.. so we could all have the same concept of wat conscience entails but we may choose not to use it.. tuck it away in a tiny, dark, forgotten corner in our hearts/minds.. watever..







Lyics
If I were blue, would you be there for me,
And whisper in my ears that's ok.
Would you stand by me, let me hold you tight,
And say you love me one more time.

If I feel good, would you slow dance with me,
And touch my lips with tender loving care,
Would you die for me, would you run with me,
And never look back..

Would you be there to love, to be with me?
Would you swear that your love is always true?
Would you say that you'll always be the one,
to take my breath away?

Would you be there to love, to be with me?
Would you swear that your love is always true?
Would you say that you'll always be the one,
to take my breath away?

Would you be there..


its almost impossible to find this guy's songs.. (Redwan Ali) so it really made my day to find tHis.. even thou a lot of his songs are nice.. and impossible to find -_-"





Angels, Once in a While
by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown

In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75 cents in my pocket. Their father was gone. The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was two.

Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared. Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds. He did manage to leave 15 dollars a week to buy groceries. Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no food either. If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew nothing about it.

I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best homemade dress. I loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job. The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small town. No luck. The kids stayed, crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince whomever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a job. Still no luck.

The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop. It was called the Big Wheel. An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window from time to time at all those kids. She needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the morning. She paid 65 cents an hour and I could start that night.

I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people. I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep. This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal. That night when the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so I started at the Big Wheel.

When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home with one dollar of my tip money - fully half of what I averaged every night. As the weeks went by, heating bills added another strain to my meager wage. The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go home. One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four tires in the back seat. New tires! There was no note, no nothing, just those beautiful brand new tires. Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered. I made a deal with the owner of the local service station. In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office. I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do the tires.

I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough. Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the kids. I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting some old toys. Then I hid them in the basement so there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning. Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys pants and soon they would be too far gone to repair.

On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big Wheel. These were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper named Joe. A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine. The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left to get home before the sun came up. When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas morning I hurried to the car. I was hoping the kids wouldn't wake up before I managed to get home and get the presents from the basement and place them under the tree. (We had cut down a small cedar tree by the side of the road down by the dump.)

It was still dark and I couldn't see much, but there appeared to be some dark shadows in the car - or was that just a trick of the night? Something certainly looked different, but it was hard to tell what. When I reached the car I peered warily into one of the side windows. Then my jaw dropped in amazement. My old battered Chevy was full to the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes. I quickly opened the driver's side door, scrambled inside and kneeled in the front facing the back seat. Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box. Inside was a whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked inside another box: It was full of shirts to go with the jeans. Then I peeked inside some of the other boxes: There were candy and nuts and bananas and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and flour. There was a whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items. And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll. As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never forget the joy on the fac es of my little ones that precious morning.

Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December.

And they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop.





wHen waS thE laSt time u suRpriSed sOmeone oR maDe somEone's dAy beTter?





no no.. no stories today.. i'm too amused by this... person who sent me the link said it shows us the secret behind our cursors.. how it moves and respond.. the webby has this circle that enlarges our cursor.. yup.. enjoy.. haha.. http://www.1-click.jp/





Love Dress

The mother-in-law stopped unexpectedly by the recently married couples' house. She rang the doorbell and stepped into the house to see her daughter-in- law standing naked by the door.

"What are you doing," the mother-in-law asked.

"I am waiting for my husband to come home from work," the daughter-in- law replied.

"Why are you naked?" asked the mother-in-law.

"This is my love dress," the daughter-in- law replied.

"LOVE DRESS! You are naked," said the mother-in-law.

"But my husband loves it when I wear this dress. It makes him happy and he makes me happy," said the daughter-in- law. "I would appreciate your leaving now because my husband will be home any minute," the daughter- in-law continued.

Soured by all of this romantic stuff, the mother-in-law left. On the way home, she thought about the "LOVE DRESS" and got an idea. When she got home, she undressed, showered, applied her best perfume, and waited by the door for her husband to come home.

Finally, the pickup truck drove up the drive way, and she took her place by the door. The father-in-law opened the door, and immediately saw his wife naked by the door.

"What are you doing," he asked.

"This is my love dress," his wife replied.

"Needs ironing," he replied.





A woman was walking down the street when she was accosted by a
particularly dirty and shabby-looking homeless woman who asked her for a
couple of dollars for dinner.

The woman took out her purse, extracted ten dollars and asked, "If I give
you this money, will you buy a pair of shoes instead of dinner?"

"No," I had to stop buying new shoes years ago, the homeless woman replied.

"Will you use it to go shopping instead of buying food?" the woman asked.

"No I don't waste time shopping," the homeless woman said. "I need to
spend all my time trying to stay alive."

"Will you spend this on a beauty salon instead of food?" the woman asked.

"Are you NUTS!" replied the homeless woman. "I haven't had my hair done in
20 years!"

"Well," said the woman, "I'm not going to give you the money. Instead,
I'm going to take you out for dinner with my hubby and myself tonight."

The homeless Woman was astounded. "Won't your hubby be furious with
you for doing that? I know I'm dirty, and I probably smell pretty disgusting."

The woman replied, "That's okay. It's important for him to see what a woman
looks like after she has given up shopping, hair appointments, and
buying new shoes."





Ithaca

When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,
pray that the road is long,
full of adventure, full of knowledge.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the angry Poseidon – do not fear them:
You will never find such as these on your path
if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine
emotion touches your spirit and your body.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,
if you do not carry them within your soul,
if your heart does not set them up before you.

Pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many, when,
with such pleasure, with such joy
you will enter ports seen for the first time;
stop at Phoenician markets,
and purchase fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensual perfumes of all kinds,
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
visit many Egyptian cities,
to learn and learn from scholars.

Always keep Ithaca in your mind.
To arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for many year;
and to anchor at the island when you are old,
rich with all that you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.
Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would never have set out on the road.
She has nothing more to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.
Wise as you have become, with so much experience,
you must have already understood what Ithaca means.

Constantine Cavafy (1863-1933)



Read The Zahir yet? By Paulo Coelho. According to Jorge Luis Borges (writer), the idea of the Zahir comes from the Islamic tradition and is thought to have arisen at some point in the eighteenth century. Zahir, in Arabic, means visible, resent, incapable of going unnoticed. It is someone or something which, once we have come into contact with them of it, gradually occupies our every thought, until we can think of nothing else. This can be considered either a state of holiness or of madness. (Faubourg Saint-Peres, Encyclopedia of the Fantastic (1953)) so... who's the Zahir of ur life? :)





小狗问妈妈，幸福在哪里。
妈妈告诉它，幸福在尾巴上。
于是，小狗天天追着尾巴，想抓住它可是他这么也抓不住。。

于是，小狗哭着告诉妈妈，他这么努力，却也抓不住幸福。
妈妈笑着说：“傻孩子，只要你往前走，幸福就会跟着你了！”











你幸福吗？





i was on a book buying spree.. it just killed my wallet.. no actually my wallet didn die.. not yet.. it just fainted out of pure exhaustion of losing so much weight suddenly.. anw.. here's a short story (its actually not fictional) fr one of my fav authors..

Paulo Coelho: In the Blue Mountains

The day after my arrival in Australia, my publishertakes me to a natural park close to Sydney. There, in the midst of the forest that covers an area known as the Blue Mountains, are three rock formations in the form of obelisks.

'They are the Three Sisters,' my publisher says, and then tells me the following legend.

A shaman was out wolking with his three sisters when the most famous warrior of the time approached them and said:
'I want to marry one of these lovely girls.'
'If one of them marries, the other two will think they are ugly. I'm looking for a tribe where warriors are allowed to have three wives,' replied the shaman, moving off.

For years, the shaman travelled the Australian continent, but never found that tribe.

'At least one of us could have been happy,' said one of the sisters, when they were old and tired of all that walking.

'I was wrong,' said the shaman, 'but now it's too late.'

And he transformed the three sisters into blocks of stone so that anyone who passed by there would understand that the happiness of one does not mean the unappiness of the others.





http://www.makeadifferencemovie.com/

hAve u maDe a dIf tO someone today?

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"When I reflect on my story, I seem to exist only as the one who came, the one who witnessed, the one who longged to be gone: a being without substance, a ghost beside the true body of Cruso. Is that the fate of all story tellers?"

Daniel Defoe - 'The life and strange surprising adventures of Robinson Crusoe'





Something To Someone
by: B.J. Morbitzer, Source Unknown


I don't wish to be
Everything to Everyone
But I would like to be
Something to Someone

For while some people have
A shoulder to cry on
It is the destiny of others
That they must cry alone

We should always remember
To themselves
No one is just another person

Touch gently the Life
Of your fellow man
For the human heart
Shapes as easily
As clay upon
The potter's wheel

Our path is a little clearer
Our steps are a little lighter
And we appear a little taller
When we walk beside
Someone we Love

The pain we feel
When someone leaves our life
Is in direct proportion
To the joy they bring
While a part of our life
For a few moments
In my Life
You made me feel
As if I truly meant
Something to Someone