My Name is Na

Kayaknya postingn ini bakal lumayan panjang dan membosankan, tapi gue disini cuman mau berbagi pengalaman aja.  Cerita bermula pas ketemu temen baru di salah satu sosial media, namanya Mark Smith, ngaku sih orang Perancis, tapi tinggal dan kerja di UK. Saat itu juga tukeran alamat email dan mulai kirim2an email. tapi orangnya rada aneh kalo gue bilang, baru juga ketemu udah sok romantis aja kalimat2nya. Karena merasa gak nyaman, gue gak terlalu merespon email dia. Selang 1-2 bulan dari terakhir contact, dia kirim email lagi. kali ini beda. Dia tuh mau minta tolong gue, bilang mau nitip duit, selama dia mau pergi ke tengah laut, jadi dia ngaku kerja di perminyakan gitu, gue kurang paham. nahh... gue karena emang udah ngrasa "rada" kenal sama ini orang, ya gue pikir gak ada salahnya bantuin lah. Toh cuman dititipin doang. Dia bilang kalo udah balik ke daratan (macam kodok aja) dia bakal dateng ke Indonesia ngambil itu duit plus nikah sama gue (dih, siapa juga elu).  Ini fo

Entah mengapa, gue kali ini punya kemauan buat nulis. Iya, jarang-jarang gue mau ngeluarin isi kepala gue, liat nih bentuk otak gue trapesium (Alahmdulillah akhirnya celana dalem yang udah 2 bulan ini ilang ketemu, ternyata keselip di dalem !). Ini emang sebuah mukjizat gue mau nulis, semuanya berkat support @shitlicious . Berkat tulisan dia, gue akhirnya punya keinginan yang kuat buat jadi penulis. Iya.. penulis ! Impossible ? Nothin’ is impossible, because I’m possible... Gue yakin gue bisa nulis. Berhubung tulisan gue jelek, gue lebih memilih blog buat jadi media nulis gue. Nggak bakal ada lagi yang ngatain tulisan gue “Ini tulisan apa cacing joged ?”. Gue masih inget kalimat itu. Ya, guru bahasa Indonesia gue pas SD sering banget bilang gitu. Sumpah ini bikin nyesek. Pake banget. So, umm... Here i am !! gue bangga bisa nulis di sini. Ini berasa tingkat kekerenan gue boost jadi 89,936134182611...%. Kenapa nanggung gitu ? Yup, karena gue pun masih belum yakin kalo KPK

The little girl lived in a small, very simple, poor house on a hill and as she grew she would play in the small garden and as she grew she was able to see over the garden fence and across the valley to a wonderful house high on the hill – and this house had golden windows, so golden and shining that the little girl would dream of how magic it would be to grow up and live in a house with golden windows instead of an ordinary house like hers. And although she loved her parents and her family, she yearned to live in such a golden house and dreamed all day about how wonderful and exciting it must feel to live there. When she got to an age where she gained enough skill and sensibility to go outside her garden fence, she asked her mother is she could go for a bike ride outside the gate and down the lane. After pleading with her, her mother finally allowed her to go, insisting that she kept close to the house and didn’t wander too far. The day was beautiful and the little girl knew exa

A group of frogs were traveling through the woods, and two of them fell into a deep pit. When the other frog saw how deep the pit was, they told the two frogs that they were as good as dead. The two frogs ignored the comments and tried to jump up out of the pit with all their might. The other frogs kept telling them to stop, that they were as good as dead. Finally, one of the frogs took heed to what the other frogs were saying and gave up. He fell down and died. The other frog continued to jump as hard as he could. Once again, the crowd of frogs yelled at him to stop the pain and just die. He jumped even harder and finally made it out. When he got out, the other frogs said, “Did you not hear us?” The frog explained to them that he was deaf. He thought they were encouraging him the entire time. Moral Value :  - There is power of life and death in the tongue. An encouraging word to someone who is down can lift them up and help them make it through the day. - A destructive

An old man lived alone in Minnesota. He wanted to spade his potato garden, but it was very hard work. His only son, who would have helped him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and mentioned his situation: Dear Son, I am feeling pretty bad because it looks like I won’t be able to plant my potato garden this year. I hate to miss doing the garden because your mother always loved planting time. I’m just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. If you were here, all my troubles would be over. I know you would dig the plot for me, if you weren’t in prison. Love, Dad Shortly, the old man received this telegram: ‘For Heaven’s sake, Dad, don’t dig up the garden!! That’s where I buried the GUNS!!’ At 4 a.m. the next morning, a dozen FBI agents and local police officers showed up and dug up the entire garden without finding any guns. Confused, the old man wrote another note to his son telling him what had happened, and asked him what to do next. His son’s repl

A cosmic god had a horse. The horse was beautiful and also it had many good qualities. But it wanted to be more perfect in every way. It especially wanted to become beauty unparalleled. One day the horse said to the cosmic god, “0 Lord, you have given me beauty. You have given me other good qualities. I am so grateful to you. But how I wish you could make me more beautiful. I would be extremely, extremely grateful if you could make me more beautiful.” The cosmic god said, “I am more than ready to make you more beautiful. Tell me in what way you want to be changed.” The horse said, “It seems to me that I am not well proportioned. My neck is too short. If you can make my neck a little longer, my upper body will be infinitely more beautiful. And if you can make my legs much longer and thinner, then I will look infinitely more beautiful in my lower body.” The cosmic god said, “Amen!” Then immediately he made a camel appear in place of the horse. The horse was so disheartened that it

After 21 years of marriage, my wife wanted me to take another woman out to dinner and a movie. She said, “I love you, but I know this other woman loves you and would love to spend some time with you.” The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my MOTHER, who has been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally. That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie. “What’s wrong, are you well?” she asked. My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news. “I thought that it would be pleasant to spend some time with you,” I responded. “Just the two of us.” She thought about it for a moment, and then said, “I would like that very much.” That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the d

“Can I see my baby?” the happy new mother asked. When the bundle was nestled in her arms and she moved the fold of cloth to look upon his tiny face, she gasped. The doctor turned quickly and looked out the tall hospital window. The baby had been born without ears. Time proved that the baby’s hearing was perfect. It was only his appearance that was marred. When he rushed home from school one day and flung himself into his mother’s arms, she sighed, knowing that his life was to be a succession of heartbreaks. He blurted out the tragedy. “A boy, a big boy … called me a freak.” He grew up, handsome for his misfortune. A favorite with his fellow students, he might have been class president, but for that. He developed a gift, a talent for literature and music. “But you might mingle with other young people,” his mother reproved him, but felt a kindness in her heart. The boy’s father had a session with the family physician. Could nothing be done? “I believe I could graft on a pair of out