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| Thursday, 31-Jan-2008 16:19 |
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sukaneka
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| Thursday, 31-Jan-2008 15:46 |
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jejak
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| Friday, 25-Jan-2008 08:51 |
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feringhi
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| Friday, 30-Nov-2007 23:17 |
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explorasi gadget.
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for wedding series pls go to http://inframe.fotopages.com
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| Thursday, 18-Oct-2007 20:08 |
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selamat hari raya
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| Thursday, 6-Sep-2007 18:58 |
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safety first
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| Tuesday, 4-Sep-2007 17:59 |
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hujan & pelindungnya
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---- semalam ada site visit, sementara nak tunggu site visit yang kedua aku boring yang amat sangat. Nasib baik aku bawak kamera. Apa saja benda kat sekolah tu, semua jadi mangsa tembakan aku. Nasib baik aku tak nampak cikgu-cikgi , kalau tak dah pasti aku load gambar cikgi-cikgi ni. Ok la hari ada lagi site visit aku try nak ambil gambar waktu dalam kelas lak. bye.
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| Monday, 27-Aug-2007 16:41 |
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bapak ayam
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fakta tentang ayam ni:-
1. cuba lari dari tuan dia yang dah sekampung cari dia.
2. cuba cari reban mana yang boleh dia tumpang pot.
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| Tuesday, 14-Aug-2007 23:17 |
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sebelum tidur...
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| Wednesday, 8-Aug-2007 16:11 |
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hamlet by akrab. --kedah theater festival 07
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William Shakespeare - To be, or not to be (from Hamlet 3/1)
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.
  
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