Besides god who else should i fear?
the only person stopping me is that guy in the mirror...
Imma tryin to be a better person, stugglin n strugglin, tryin to fight the good fight, but sadly I am losing sure I have won some minor victories but I am losing the war....
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Who am I?
Today I managed to get up for fagr salah without any difficulty as soon as I heard the ahzan I simply got up an made wudu, I had not slept at all from the moment I got into bed from the moment I got out I lay there the whole night my body aching with pain my mind raising uncontrollably, projecting images in my mind ,random things, everything...I had stopped reading the Quran for months and only recently have I actually picked it up, I do not pray all my prayers, some days go by where I do not pray at all, 2-3 days at a time! As I think back I become fearful because this is not me, this is not who I am.....ppl keep telling me I have changed...I have for the better and the worse, Im putting my past behind me, fixin up my life, opening myself up (slowly, and cautiously), but I have lost my Emaan...that is a price I cannot pay...
I want to be surrounded by the people who will help me streagthin my Emaan, I need it, the problem is I canno trust them for they have broken that trust, and others make it seem to me that they do not want me the be with them, I have 3-4 brothers who r there but I don't know I don't know if I can open up to them....the people I can open up to are all non-muslim, how has it come to this, that I cannot trust my own brothers and sisters in islam??? Don't get me wrong my non-muslims friends are some of the best ppl on earth. They are surely my best friends.....
Brothers actin like they rock, sisters thinkin there hot...it's quite funny yet disturbing to see what I'm seeing and to hear what I'm hearing.....
Im really missing Tunnu :S I ran into Gayu in Hennessey (k I don't know the spelling let me be!:P), man im missing tunnu.....FLIP TUNNU PICK UP UR CELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I want to be surrounded by the people who will help me streagthin my Emaan, I need it, the problem is I canno trust them for they have broken that trust, and others make it seem to me that they do not want me the be with them, I have 3-4 brothers who r there but I don't know I don't know if I can open up to them....the people I can open up to are all non-muslim, how has it come to this, that I cannot trust my own brothers and sisters in islam??? Don't get me wrong my non-muslims friends are some of the best ppl on earth. They are surely my best friends.....
Brothers actin like they rock, sisters thinkin there hot...it's quite funny yet disturbing to see what I'm seeing and to hear what I'm hearing.....
Im really missing Tunnu :S I ran into Gayu in Hennessey (k I don't know the spelling let me be!:P), man im missing tunnu.....FLIP TUNNU PICK UP UR CELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Friday, May 12, 2006
The Lost Roots....
So I have decided not to join the aiyc soccer, it's all just fuckin pissing me off, a month in advance and particularly every week I have ben asking "when is soccer starting", only to find out yesterday that is has already stared 3 days ago n they got 16 guys on the ta plus another additional 'subs' ,4 of them, its like what the fuck?!?! this is the second time im being fucked over first hockey now soccer??? ive been with the ikwhaan soccer since day one pratically, and now like fuck! it's all about winning its no longer about having fun n brotherhood.....I think the roots of why this organization was started has been lost sure we got the whole events n stuff like that but in the end it does not do anything cuz it is not in the hearts of the people....the only real reason I got playin time las yr was cuz most of the guys were offensive players (they could play D but they preferred/better at offence) so I surprisingly got playin time, cuz usually I do not, ill be straight, im not crazy at soccer but hey I have been gettin better, I go to the practices (and in 99.9% of the cases im early and usually the first one there) and for what hardly ever gettin to play in what 3 MAC tournies I did not play at all I was on the side watchin the whole time....and everytime I remember thinking 'its ok it wont happen next time" yet it always did...sadly its all about winning....I just pray that bball does not turn to the extent hockey n soccer have come too
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Im going, going, gone....
today has been a great loss, for I love los someone I have all loved and cared about, a failure on my part.....a failure to be what i was supposed to be....a brother. Where did I go wrong I do not know, but what I do know is that I will never be the same knowing that I have lost someone special to me
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Of all the friends I'll ever have,
Not one will ever be
Important to my life the way
You've been to me.
In many ways we are different,
Yet I always turn to you
To put things into perspective
With an honest point of view.
You take the time to listen with
A sympathetic ear
And tell things in gentle ways
I really need to hear.
A brother is a special gift
IM always grateful for,
Because there is no one else on earth
I'd trust and count on more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Of all the friends I'll ever have,
Not one will ever be
Important to my life the way
You've been to me.
In many ways we are different,
Yet I always turn to you
To put things into perspective
With an honest point of view.
You take the time to listen with
A sympathetic ear
And tell things in gentle ways
I really need to hear.
A brother is a special gift
IM always grateful for,
Because there is no one else on earth
I'd trust and count on more.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
The Nightingale and the Red Rose
"She said she would dance with me if I brought her a red rose" cried the young man, "but in all my garden there is no red rose!"
From his nest in the oak tree the nightingale heard him, and he looked out through the leaves and wondered.
"No red rose in all my garden!" he cried, and his beautiful eyes filled with tears. "Ah, on what little things does happiness depend! I have read all that the wisemen have written, and all the secrets of philosophy are mine, yet for the want of a red rose my life is made wretched."
"Here is a true lover," said the Nightingale. "Night after night have I sung of him though I knew him not: night after night have I told his story to the stars and now I see him. His hair is dark as the hyacinth-blossom, and his lips are as red as the rose of his desire, but passion has made his face pale like ivory and sorrow has set her seal upon his brow."
"The Prince shall give a ball tomorrow night," mummured the young man, "And my love will be of the company. If I bring her a red rose, I shall hold her in my arms, and she will lean her head upon my shoulder and her hand will be clapsed in mine. But there is no red rose in my garden, so I shall sit lonely and she will pass me by. She will have no heed of me, and my heart will break."
"Here indeed is a true lover," said the Nightingale. "What I sing of, he suffers: what is joy to me, is pain to him. Surely love is a wonderful thing. It is more precious than emeralds and dearer than fine opals. Pearls and pomergrantes cannot buy it, nor it is set forth in the market-place. It may not be purchased, nor can it be bought.
"The musicians will sit in their gallery," said the young man, "and play upon their stinged instruments, and my love will dance to the sound of the harp and the violin. She will dance so lightly that her feet will not touch the floor, and the courtiers in their handsome clothes will throng around her. But with me she will not dance, for I have no red rose to give her"; and he flung himself down on the grass, and buried his face in his hands, and wept.
"Why is he weeping?" asked the a little green lizard, as he ran past him with his tail in the air.
"Why indeed?" whispered a daffodil to its neighbor, in a soft low voice.
"He is weeping for a red rose" said the Nighingale.
"For a red rose?" they cried "how ridiculous!"
But the nightingale understood the secret of the young man's sorrow, and he sat silent in the oak tree, and thought about the mysteries of Love.
Suddenly he spread his brown wings for flight, and soared into the air. He passed through the grove like a shadow he sailed across the garden.
In the centre of the grss plot was standing a beautiful rose tree, and when he saw it he flew over to it, and lit upon a spray.
"Give me a red rose" he cried, "and I shall sing you my sweetest song."
But the tree shook its head.
"My roses are but white," it answered; "white as the foam of the sea, and whiter than the show on the mountain. But go to my brother who grows aroun the sundial, and perhaps he will give you what you want."
So the Nighingale flew across to the rose tree that was growing around the sundial.
"Give me a red rose" he cried, "and I shall sing you my sweetest song."
But the tree shook its he's.
"my roses are but yellow" it answered; "yellow as the hair of the mermaid who sits upon an amber throne, and yellowier then the daffodil the blooms in the meadow before the mower comes with his scythe. But go to my brother who grows beneath the young mans window, and perhaps he will give you what you want."
So the Nightingale flew over to the rose tree that grew beneath the young mans window.
"Give me a red rose" he cried, "and I shall sing you my sweetest song."
But the tree shook its head.
"My roses are red" it answered; "as red as blood, and redder than the great fans of coral that wave and wave in the ocean cavern. But winter has chilled my veins, and the frost has nipped my buds, and the storm has broken my branches, so I shall have no roses at all this year."
"One rose is all I want," cried the Nighingale "only one red rose! is there no way by which I can get it?"
"There is a way" answered the tree; "but it is sp terrible that I dare not tell you."
"Tell it to me," said the Nightingale, "I am not afraid"
"If you want a red rose," said the tree, "you must build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with your hearts blood. You must sing to me with your heart against a thorn. All night long you must sing to me, and the thorn must pierce your heart, and your like blood must flow unto my veins and become mine."
"Death is a great price to pay for a red rose," cried the Nightingale, "and life is very dear to all. It is pleasant to sit in the green wood, and to watch the sun that shine like a chariot of gold, and the moon a chariot of pearl. Sweet is the scent of the hawthorn, and sweet are the blue bells that hide in the valley, and the hearther that blows on the hill. Yet love is better than life, and what is the heart of a bird compared to the heart of a man?"
So he spread his brown wings for flight, and soared into the air. He swept over the garden like a shadow, and like a shadow he sailed through the grove.
The young man was still lying on the grass, where he had left him, and the tears where not yet dry on his beautiful eyes.
"Be happy," cried the Nightingale, "be happy that you shall have your red rose. I will build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with my own hearts blood. All I ask is that you be a true lover, for love is wiser than philosophy, though he be wise, and mightier than power, though he may be mighty. Falme colored are his wings, and colored like the flame is his body. His lips are sweet as honey and his breath is like frankincense."
The young man looked up from the grass and listened, but he could not understand what the Nightingale was saying.
But the oak tree understood, and felt sad, for he was very fond of the little Nightingale, who built his nest in his branches.
"Sing me one last song," he whispered; "I shall be lonely when you are gone."
So the Nightingale sang to the oak tree, his voice was like honey poured over thunder.
When he had finished his song, the student got up, and pulled a note book and pencil from his pocket.
"She has form," he said to himself, as he walked away through the grove- "that cannot be denied of her; but has she got feeling? I am not afraid. In fact she is like most artists; she is all style without sincerity. She would not sacrifice herself for others. She thinks merely of music, and everybody knows that the arts are selfish. Still, it must be admitted that she has some beautiful notes in her voice. What a pity they do not mean anything, or do any practical good!" And he went into his room, and lay down on his bed, thinking of his love; and after a time he fell asleep.
And when the moon shone in the heavens the Nightingale flew to the rose tree, and set his chest against the thorn. All night long he sang, with his chest against the thorn, and the cold crystal moon leaned down and listened. All night long he sang, and the thorn went deeper and deeper into his chest, and his life blood ebbed away from him.
He sang of he birth of love in the heart of a boy and a girl. And on the top most spray of the rose tree there blossomed a marvelous rose, petal following petal, as song followed song. Pale was it at first, as the mists that hangs over a lake, pale as the feet in the morning, and silver as the wings of the dawn. As the shadow of a rose in a mirror of silver, as shadow of a rose in a waterpool, as was the rose that blossomed on the top most spray of the tree.
But the tree called out to the Nightingale to press his chest closer against the thorn. " Press closer Nightingale," cried the tree, "or dawn will come before the rose is finished."
So the nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and louder and louder grew his song, for he sang of the birth of passion in the soul of a man and a maid.
And a delicate flush of pink came into the leaves of the rose, like the flush in the face of a bridegroom when he kiss the lips of his bride. But the thorn had not yet reached the heart, so the roses heart remained yet white, for only the Nightingale's heart blood can crimson the heart of a rose.
And the tree called out to the Nightingale to press his chest closer against the thorn. " Press closer Nightingale," cried the tree, "or dawn will come before the rose is finished."
So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and thorn touched his heart, and a fierce pang of pain shot through him. Biter, biter was the pain, and wilder and wilder grew his song, for he sang of the love that is perfected by death, of the love that dies not in the tomb.
And the marvelous rose turned crimson, like the rose of the eastern sky. Crimson was the girdle of petals, and crimson as a ruby was the heart.
But the Nightingale's voice grew fainter, and his wings began to beat, and a tear came over his eyes, fainter and fainter grew his song, and he felt something chocking in his throat.
Then he gave one last burst of music. The white moon heard it, and forgot the dawn and lingered in the sky. The red rose heard it, and it trembled all over with ecstasy, and opened its petals to the cold morning air. Echo bore it to his purple cavern in the hills, and woke the sleeping shepherds from their dreams, It floated through the reeds of the lake.
"Look, Look!" cried the tree, "the rose is finished now" ; but the Nightingale made no answer, for he was lying dead in the long grass, with a thorn in his heart.
And at noon the young man woke up, opened his window and looked out
"Why what a wonderful piece of luck!" he cried; "here is a red rose! I have never seenany rose like it in all my life. It is so beautiful that I am sure that there is no other in the world like it"; and he leaned down and plucked it.
Then he put on his hat, and ran to the professor's house with the rose in hand. The daughter of the professor was sitting in the doorway playing with her little puppy.
"You said that you would dance with me if I brought you a red rose," cried the young man. "Here is the reddest rose in all the world. You will wear it tonight next to your heart, and as we dance together I will tell you how much I love you."
But the girl frowned.
"I am afraid it will not go with my dress," she answered; "and besides the Mayor's nephew has sent me some real jewels, and everybody knows that jewels costfar more than flowers, be they roses or no."
"Well upon my word, your are most ungrateful," said the young man depressed and angry at the time time, he let the rose drop into the street, where it fell into the gutter, and was run over by people and vehicles passing by.
"Ungrateful!" said the girl, I will tell you what, you are very rude;ad, after all, who are you? Only a student, Why I don't believe you even got a car like the mayors nephew does"; and she got up from her chair and went inside.
"What a silly thing love is!" said the young man as he walked away...
~To kill a Nightingale~
From his nest in the oak tree the nightingale heard him, and he looked out through the leaves and wondered.
"No red rose in all my garden!" he cried, and his beautiful eyes filled with tears. "Ah, on what little things does happiness depend! I have read all that the wisemen have written, and all the secrets of philosophy are mine, yet for the want of a red rose my life is made wretched."
"Here is a true lover," said the Nightingale. "Night after night have I sung of him though I knew him not: night after night have I told his story to the stars and now I see him. His hair is dark as the hyacinth-blossom, and his lips are as red as the rose of his desire, but passion has made his face pale like ivory and sorrow has set her seal upon his brow."
"The Prince shall give a ball tomorrow night," mummured the young man, "And my love will be of the company. If I bring her a red rose, I shall hold her in my arms, and she will lean her head upon my shoulder and her hand will be clapsed in mine. But there is no red rose in my garden, so I shall sit lonely and she will pass me by. She will have no heed of me, and my heart will break."
"Here indeed is a true lover," said the Nightingale. "What I sing of, he suffers: what is joy to me, is pain to him. Surely love is a wonderful thing. It is more precious than emeralds and dearer than fine opals. Pearls and pomergrantes cannot buy it, nor it is set forth in the market-place. It may not be purchased, nor can it be bought.
"The musicians will sit in their gallery," said the young man, "and play upon their stinged instruments, and my love will dance to the sound of the harp and the violin. She will dance so lightly that her feet will not touch the floor, and the courtiers in their handsome clothes will throng around her. But with me she will not dance, for I have no red rose to give her"; and he flung himself down on the grass, and buried his face in his hands, and wept.
"Why is he weeping?" asked the a little green lizard, as he ran past him with his tail in the air.
"Why indeed?" whispered a daffodil to its neighbor, in a soft low voice.
"He is weeping for a red rose" said the Nighingale.
"For a red rose?" they cried "how ridiculous!"
But the nightingale understood the secret of the young man's sorrow, and he sat silent in the oak tree, and thought about the mysteries of Love.
Suddenly he spread his brown wings for flight, and soared into the air. He passed through the grove like a shadow he sailed across the garden.
In the centre of the grss plot was standing a beautiful rose tree, and when he saw it he flew over to it, and lit upon a spray.
"Give me a red rose" he cried, "and I shall sing you my sweetest song."
But the tree shook its head.
"My roses are but white," it answered; "white as the foam of the sea, and whiter than the show on the mountain. But go to my brother who grows aroun the sundial, and perhaps he will give you what you want."
So the Nighingale flew across to the rose tree that was growing around the sundial.
"Give me a red rose" he cried, "and I shall sing you my sweetest song."
But the tree shook its he's.
"my roses are but yellow" it answered; "yellow as the hair of the mermaid who sits upon an amber throne, and yellowier then the daffodil the blooms in the meadow before the mower comes with his scythe. But go to my brother who grows beneath the young mans window, and perhaps he will give you what you want."
So the Nightingale flew over to the rose tree that grew beneath the young mans window.
"Give me a red rose" he cried, "and I shall sing you my sweetest song."
But the tree shook its head.
"My roses are red" it answered; "as red as blood, and redder than the great fans of coral that wave and wave in the ocean cavern. But winter has chilled my veins, and the frost has nipped my buds, and the storm has broken my branches, so I shall have no roses at all this year."
"One rose is all I want," cried the Nighingale "only one red rose! is there no way by which I can get it?"
"There is a way" answered the tree; "but it is sp terrible that I dare not tell you."
"Tell it to me," said the Nightingale, "I am not afraid"
"If you want a red rose," said the tree, "you must build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with your hearts blood. You must sing to me with your heart against a thorn. All night long you must sing to me, and the thorn must pierce your heart, and your like blood must flow unto my veins and become mine."
"Death is a great price to pay for a red rose," cried the Nightingale, "and life is very dear to all. It is pleasant to sit in the green wood, and to watch the sun that shine like a chariot of gold, and the moon a chariot of pearl. Sweet is the scent of the hawthorn, and sweet are the blue bells that hide in the valley, and the hearther that blows on the hill. Yet love is better than life, and what is the heart of a bird compared to the heart of a man?"
So he spread his brown wings for flight, and soared into the air. He swept over the garden like a shadow, and like a shadow he sailed through the grove.
The young man was still lying on the grass, where he had left him, and the tears where not yet dry on his beautiful eyes.
"Be happy," cried the Nightingale, "be happy that you shall have your red rose. I will build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with my own hearts blood. All I ask is that you be a true lover, for love is wiser than philosophy, though he be wise, and mightier than power, though he may be mighty. Falme colored are his wings, and colored like the flame is his body. His lips are sweet as honey and his breath is like frankincense."
The young man looked up from the grass and listened, but he could not understand what the Nightingale was saying.
But the oak tree understood, and felt sad, for he was very fond of the little Nightingale, who built his nest in his branches.
"Sing me one last song," he whispered; "I shall be lonely when you are gone."
So the Nightingale sang to the oak tree, his voice was like honey poured over thunder.
When he had finished his song, the student got up, and pulled a note book and pencil from his pocket.
"She has form," he said to himself, as he walked away through the grove- "that cannot be denied of her; but has she got feeling? I am not afraid. In fact she is like most artists; she is all style without sincerity. She would not sacrifice herself for others. She thinks merely of music, and everybody knows that the arts are selfish. Still, it must be admitted that she has some beautiful notes in her voice. What a pity they do not mean anything, or do any practical good!" And he went into his room, and lay down on his bed, thinking of his love; and after a time he fell asleep.
And when the moon shone in the heavens the Nightingale flew to the rose tree, and set his chest against the thorn. All night long he sang, with his chest against the thorn, and the cold crystal moon leaned down and listened. All night long he sang, and the thorn went deeper and deeper into his chest, and his life blood ebbed away from him.
He sang of he birth of love in the heart of a boy and a girl. And on the top most spray of the rose tree there blossomed a marvelous rose, petal following petal, as song followed song. Pale was it at first, as the mists that hangs over a lake, pale as the feet in the morning, and silver as the wings of the dawn. As the shadow of a rose in a mirror of silver, as shadow of a rose in a waterpool, as was the rose that blossomed on the top most spray of the tree.
But the tree called out to the Nightingale to press his chest closer against the thorn. " Press closer Nightingale," cried the tree, "or dawn will come before the rose is finished."
So the nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and louder and louder grew his song, for he sang of the birth of passion in the soul of a man and a maid.
And a delicate flush of pink came into the leaves of the rose, like the flush in the face of a bridegroom when he kiss the lips of his bride. But the thorn had not yet reached the heart, so the roses heart remained yet white, for only the Nightingale's heart blood can crimson the heart of a rose.
And the tree called out to the Nightingale to press his chest closer against the thorn. " Press closer Nightingale," cried the tree, "or dawn will come before the rose is finished."
So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and thorn touched his heart, and a fierce pang of pain shot through him. Biter, biter was the pain, and wilder and wilder grew his song, for he sang of the love that is perfected by death, of the love that dies not in the tomb.
And the marvelous rose turned crimson, like the rose of the eastern sky. Crimson was the girdle of petals, and crimson as a ruby was the heart.
But the Nightingale's voice grew fainter, and his wings began to beat, and a tear came over his eyes, fainter and fainter grew his song, and he felt something chocking in his throat.
Then he gave one last burst of music. The white moon heard it, and forgot the dawn and lingered in the sky. The red rose heard it, and it trembled all over with ecstasy, and opened its petals to the cold morning air. Echo bore it to his purple cavern in the hills, and woke the sleeping shepherds from their dreams, It floated through the reeds of the lake.
"Look, Look!" cried the tree, "the rose is finished now" ; but the Nightingale made no answer, for he was lying dead in the long grass, with a thorn in his heart.
And at noon the young man woke up, opened his window and looked out
"Why what a wonderful piece of luck!" he cried; "here is a red rose! I have never seenany rose like it in all my life. It is so beautiful that I am sure that there is no other in the world like it"; and he leaned down and plucked it.
Then he put on his hat, and ran to the professor's house with the rose in hand. The daughter of the professor was sitting in the doorway playing with her little puppy.
"You said that you would dance with me if I brought you a red rose," cried the young man. "Here is the reddest rose in all the world. You will wear it tonight next to your heart, and as we dance together I will tell you how much I love you."
But the girl frowned.
"I am afraid it will not go with my dress," she answered; "and besides the Mayor's nephew has sent me some real jewels, and everybody knows that jewels costfar more than flowers, be they roses or no."
"Well upon my word, your are most ungrateful," said the young man depressed and angry at the time time, he let the rose drop into the street, where it fell into the gutter, and was run over by people and vehicles passing by.
"Ungrateful!" said the girl, I will tell you what, you are very rude;ad, after all, who are you? Only a student, Why I don't believe you even got a car like the mayors nephew does"; and she got up from her chair and went inside.
"What a silly thing love is!" said the young man as he walked away...
~To kill a Nightingale~
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Random Ballin N Window Shoppin...
the two most intensive bball games i have played for sometime. On one side Jawad, Youcef, and myself, on the other Mahdi, Abdi, n Kappa (did not catch his name but he was wearin a kappa shirt so i shall call him that for now:P) The first game we won easly enough the second youcef gotinjured and we lost but barely! flip we had alot of sweet plays going....AAAAARRRGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH i miss the easiest shots i cant shot rite by the net!!!....i hate this country!!! well actually i don't, but u get the point!.....hahahaha i love jawad he sends ppl flying (unintentionally of course *cough cough*) but the thing is there so weak and skinny theres nothing he can really do :P .......
Chilled with random, jacey, kesha n her guy at sg yesterday.....lol the climax was when random kept makin korny momma jokes n when kesha goes "yo neeta ur mom!" nobody gets it at first until we look aroun n see her i turn back to random but shes already running for the nearest exit!!!.....later after catchin up to her the first thing she says "yo an u get my ipod n pizza???"....so i go bak to grab'em but alas! her pizza is gone.......
Chilled with random, jacey, kesha n her guy at sg yesterday.....lol the climax was when random kept makin korny momma jokes n when kesha goes "yo neeta ur mom!" nobody gets it at first until we look aroun n see her i turn back to random but shes already running for the nearest exit!!!.....later after catchin up to her the first thing she says "yo an u get my ipod n pizza???"....so i go bak to grab'em but alas! her pizza is gone.......
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Brotherhood...
We few, We Happy Few, we Band of Brothers
For he who sheds his blood with me today,
shall forever be my Brother
(just something my freind told me)
Monday, April 10, 2006
:S
I have offically been scared by tunu and jocelyn i cannot eat smarties let alone look at them with out wanting to puke....thanks alot!!!! stupid geniusesssssssss!.....on futher note exams AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!...oh n ya soccer season is coming up
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
lettin the ball roll.....
The U.S. may have the power to cause harm and pain, but it is also susceptible to harm and pain. So if the U.S wants to pursue that path, then let the ball roll.- Javad Vadeedi
When I first cam across this I knew 100% that Iran is a forced to be reckoned with...
When I first cam across this I knew 100% that Iran is a forced to be reckoned with...
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Ranger Training
My new training schedule...
PUSHUPS
The Ranger goal: 80 in 2 minutes
If you do not measure up: Do as many pushups as you can, then rest for 20 seconds. Repeat this back-and-forth process (work, rest) for 2 minutes. Keep track of the total number of pushups you perform in that time period, and try to beat it in your next workout.
SITUPS
The Ranger goal: 80 in 2 minutes
If you don't measure up: Without resting, do as many situps as you can, timing yourself from start to finish. Then rest for that same amount of time. Repeat four times, always resting for only as long as it took to do your previous set. Work your way to the 2-minute goal.
CHINUPS
The Ranger goal: 12 or more
If you don't measure up: Take the most chinups you can do at one time, and divide that number in half. Now perform sets of that number of repetitions resting 60 seconds after each set until you've done at least 12 chinups. (If you can do six chinups, you'll perform four sets of three repetitions.) Each workout, reduce your rest between sets by 5 seconds, until you're down to zero rest and able to do 12 consecutive chinups.
2-MILE RUN
The Ranger goal: 13 minutes or less
If you don't measure up: Break the 2-mile distance into 440-yard increments (1/4 mile, or once around the track) and do eight intervals, running each in 1 minute, 38 seconds a pace that's equivalent to a 6:30 mile and resting for 60 seconds after each. Each workout, reduce your rest period by 5 to 10 seconds until you can do all eight 440-yard rounds without stopping.
The words I live by...
I never asked for nothin I don't demand of myself
Honesty, loyalty, and then courage
Death before dishonor and I'll tell you what else
I'll tighten my belt 'fore I beg for your help
PUSHUPS
The Ranger goal: 80 in 2 minutes
If you do not measure up: Do as many pushups as you can, then rest for 20 seconds. Repeat this back-and-forth process (work, rest) for 2 minutes. Keep track of the total number of pushups you perform in that time period, and try to beat it in your next workout.
SITUPS
The Ranger goal: 80 in 2 minutes
If you don't measure up: Without resting, do as many situps as you can, timing yourself from start to finish. Then rest for that same amount of time. Repeat four times, always resting for only as long as it took to do your previous set. Work your way to the 2-minute goal.
CHINUPS
The Ranger goal: 12 or more
If you don't measure up: Take the most chinups you can do at one time, and divide that number in half. Now perform sets of that number of repetitions resting 60 seconds after each set until you've done at least 12 chinups. (If you can do six chinups, you'll perform four sets of three repetitions.) Each workout, reduce your rest between sets by 5 seconds, until you're down to zero rest and able to do 12 consecutive chinups.
2-MILE RUN
The Ranger goal: 13 minutes or less
If you don't measure up: Break the 2-mile distance into 440-yard increments (1/4 mile, or once around the track) and do eight intervals, running each in 1 minute, 38 seconds a pace that's equivalent to a 6:30 mile and resting for 60 seconds after each. Each workout, reduce your rest period by 5 to 10 seconds until you can do all eight 440-yard rounds without stopping.
The words I live by...
I never asked for nothin I don't demand of myself
Honesty, loyalty, and then courage
Death before dishonor and I'll tell you what else
I'll tighten my belt 'fore I beg for your help
Monday, April 03, 2006
Random n Odd
I need 2work n my game!...both bball n soccer...flip I don't think im going to get on the soccer team this year cuz I really suck!....
man i had another dream again (well same dream) and it was comedy yogee was wearing her ESPIRT hat N was breakdancin wit all these ghetto smurfs, jocey was leading a hijabi revolution, moe was checking out the gurls on both sides, random came in the middle n was confused so she told everybody to sit down...then tunnu was crying out very dramatically "WHY OH GOD WHYYYY"....n then she did the the G U J J U dance :P..and all hese randoms gujjus popped out of no where n did the gujju dance......oh man every1 was in that dream an ya they all played apart it was pretty funny.....
man i had another dream again (well same dream) and it was comedy yogee was wearing her ESPIRT hat N was breakdancin wit all these ghetto smurfs, jocey was leading a hijabi revolution, moe was checking out the gurls on both sides, random came in the middle n was confused so she told everybody to sit down...then tunnu was crying out very dramatically "WHY OH GOD WHYYYY"....n then she did the the G U J J U dance :P..and all hese randoms gujjus popped out of no where n did the gujju dance......oh man every1 was in that dream an ya they all played apart it was pretty funny.....
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Random x2
im a sooo sick!....huge headaches, feelin weak, lost my appettite so im gettin so skinny like all skin n bones!.....have not worked out for about 2weeks, and on top of it i think the whoel wrold knows that i was in the hospital and the reason why like fuck!....let a man be....n ya just a tootalt random lg im feelin so out of it :S
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Random
just had another day of work n got off the fone wit mahmoud, man i love this guy "yo man ur work in west ed! damn all the hot chicks u get 2 see n work wit!" hahahha no matter what all he thinks of is the other gender...im going to tell his wife...n sis :P .......i think i lost the feeling in my legs im so tired.....
okay 12 ppl have had flippin dreams about me dyin n shiet like wth!...oh n i mite be goin to toronto very soon n ya thas my tale
okay 12 ppl have had flippin dreams about me dyin n shiet like wth!...oh n i mite be goin to toronto very soon n ya thas my tale
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Random
going for my jog today and i noticed this person chained up there dog outside sobeys and the dog was freezing cold n was whining i felt so bad for it that i wanted to unchain it but instead i went up to it patted it played a bit with it n was pondering on lettin it go n finding it a home when the owner came flip gave her a dirty looked n flipin it took i had to not yell at her!....n ya tyhas my story
2nd day n a row n im still so soooore!...man did i get rocked n hockey! :S
2nd day n a row n im still so soooore!...man did i get rocked n hockey! :S
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Guilt...
My desire is as deep and boundless as the sea,
But when the tides resides,
The rocks of shame and guilt thrust up as sharp as ever.
Sometimes the waves will cover them up,
But they remain beneath the waters,
Hard and black and slimey...
But when the tides resides,
The rocks of shame and guilt thrust up as sharp as ever.
Sometimes the waves will cover them up,
But they remain beneath the waters,
Hard and black and slimey...
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Ballin....
SNAP! man las nites game was awsome ...well atleast thats what i think...personally i i am so happy wit maself i played so well the guy i was coverin only got 1 shot in n that was due to the fact he was much taller than me..youcef had same crazy ballin goin on i was wow everybody back up!!!.....how u gonna rip it like this son!!!! kape im a lil high at the moment so im gon leave off here....
Friday, March 03, 2006
Random
missed flippin bball pratice 2morrow n im flippin annoyed i really wanted to go i got home like 8 bloody 50 quickly called youcef n murtada but it was 2late n flip aske my father just this once for a ride but he could not n it was far to late to run it FLIPPPPPPPPP n the stupid movie it wazent all that flipin great arrraggggggggggggggggggggggh atleast I managed to get up for fagr salah...flip in flipin stressin just wanna swear like crazy but that is not going to accomplish any thing which is y im restraing from it arraggggggggh
...but hey got the job a le chateau! n ya starting next fri bn ya thas my tale....
...but hey got the job a le chateau! n ya starting next fri bn ya thas my tale....
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Random
shaved my head yet again but this time I gave myself I kinda mohawk like a really small one that runs diagonally across he top of my head it looks sweet.....or in Laila words "Wow u keep gettin hotter!" hahahaha your on crack Laila!....n now ppl are callin me shawn desman...to this I reply "No, Bilal Ahmed"......talked to a friend whom I have no spoken to for well months now wow it was good to hear her voice.....n ya thas my story (im gonna kill u random itz still stuck in my head!!!!)
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