profile I'm adyla & i'm 19. I don't plan to delete this blog for now. Although I won't be active here anymore. So please visit me in my new blog, thanks. goal To upgrade. To achieve. To graduate. With rainbow colours. archives November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 the tagboard
affiliates My Crazy Sister, Zimah My Beloved Cuzzie, Nina My Beloved Cuzzie, Nisa My Beloved Cuzzie, Tasha My Lovely Sister, Kak Rufi My Close Gf, Shimma My Bestie, Charlotte My Close Gf, Syafiqah My Close Gf, Ain My Loving Friend, Aqidah My Adorable Buddy, Kathy My Sweet Friend, Taufiq My Cute Classmate,Janice My Cute Classmate's BF,Eugene S'pore Poly Make-Up Artiste Club credits you can remove this if you don't have a conscience. i assure you i will not hunt you down. skin by: Jane |
Sunday, September 14, 2008 @ 12:57 AM
this is becoming boring SO. Lets just update: - Its the holidays and we're fasting. - I just went for a Ramadhan Rocks Camp. - I made a lot of new friends from SAF. - I thought i found my future husband there. ahahahaha.. - I gave up my post as the Assistant Showcase Director for my club's showcase coz i felt that i was too tied down with other responsibilities. - I was rejected 2 times in a row. But i never regret it. - I have a crush on someone. - & I don't intend to tell him. - I intend to quit my job before they fire/replace me. - I'm gonna stay over at Yishun for some days every week to accompany my granny since she's living alone. - Charlotte just had her birthday, gonna have dinner with her and Shimma soon. - Amazingly, i miss school. * Maybe i should change the way i blog, this is becoming boring. Monday, September 1, 2008 @ 12:02 PM
Allah's Hidayah is always there, around us. A very short yet inspiring story. I found it from iluvislam.com. Allah's Hidayah is always there, around us. It comes in all sorts of forms. It's either we are aware of it or we simply take advantage on it. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 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 it’s 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-toting boy could not see: he was blind. I heard my voice quiver, tears shone like the sun as I thanked him for picking the very best one. You’re welcome, he smiled, and then 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 his hand about to change the life of an unsuspecting old man. |