Tuesday, July 27, 2004
11:35 PM
about a kitten and a little prince
Of A Kitten ...
12.40 pm
i was studying at cb, in 1u; while listening to maksim that was played on their radio, and all of a sudden, i saw this little kitten
right in the middle of the outlet.
honestly speaking, it was really
adorable ... to see an extraordinary guest in weird places
(and pls, do not compare it with the situation of watching stray animals during mamak sessions. it's totally different), and because i'm really in my good mood right now, it did
lift my spirits up. =)
and do you know what's the best part?
it came to me, purred and it looked at me with it's big pearly eyes. the only thing though .. i do wish it gives me that "Puss-in-boots" manja look. but no, that's not what i get. instead, it looks
as if it wants to pounce on me. *sigh*
mental note to self: always bring a camera around
i wish: that i could have taken the picture of the little kitten
xxXxx
Of A Little Prince
Night time ...
i came across this story book that belongs to my friend, which is called "The Little Prince" by Antoine De Saint-Exupery. how's the book?
Love it. =)
I hoisted the bucket slowly to the edge and carefully set it down. The song of the pulley was ringing in my ears, and in the still trembling water i could see the trembling sun.
"How I long for this water," said the little prince.
"Give me some to drink."
And I understood what he had been looking for.
I raised the bucket to his lips. He drank, his eyes closed. This water gladdened the heart. It was something other than a mere beverage. Its sweetness was born of our march beneath the stars, of the pulley's song and the exertion of my arms. It was good for the heart, like a present. When I was a little boy, the lights of the Christmas tree, the music at midnight mass, the tenderness of the smiling faces, all these together made up the radiance of the present I received.
"Where you come from," said the little prince, "people grow five thousand roses in one garden - and still they do not find what they are looking for."
"No, they do not find it," I replied.
"Yet what they are looking for could be found in a single rose, or in a handful of water. But the eyes are blind. One must look with the heart."
I had now drunk my fill of water. I breathed deeply. The desert sand, at daybreak, is the colour of honey. I was happy, too, on account of this colour of honey. Why, then, did I also feel such sadness?