Sunday, May 01, 2005
Be cool
Be cool, Be famous, Be sexy, Be bad, Be proud, Be tough, Be yourself.
Let me tell you a story.
An American soldier landed in the besmirched and dingy marshes of Vietnam in 1970. All he was equipped were a Thompson rifle and a dagger, and he was in an absolutely precarious state, if he was to fall in the Vietcong's hands. His confidants were all blotted out like credulous pigs, and no remnants would mean a tougher journey ahead.
The American was a veteran, as he served in World War Two and almost butchered by the Nazis, fortunately he pulled through, and facing the hard-bitten Vietnamese was a more catchy task. He feared, he agonized, he trembled, but life would not give in to such apprehension. Never.
He paced on, towards south, hoping to chance upon any Americans.
One day,
Two days,
He stumbled upon a mob of armed people, with dimunitive eyes, single eyelids, and undersized groins. They were called the Vietnamese. And to aggravate matters, they were the Vietcong.
The American soldier was outnumbered. His will to fray was dissipating bits by bits. He saw god's hand reaching out to him. Alas, his quest for eternity had been acknowledged.
Boom, and smoke clogged out the sunlights.
Through the murky dust, he saw an American badge.
Peeps, the quest has no cessation. The fire will rekindle and ignite others again. It will. I assure you.
Let me tell you a story.
An American soldier landed in the besmirched and dingy marshes of Vietnam in 1970. All he was equipped were a Thompson rifle and a dagger, and he was in an absolutely precarious state, if he was to fall in the Vietcong's hands. His confidants were all blotted out like credulous pigs, and no remnants would mean a tougher journey ahead.
The American was a veteran, as he served in World War Two and almost butchered by the Nazis, fortunately he pulled through, and facing the hard-bitten Vietnamese was a more catchy task. He feared, he agonized, he trembled, but life would not give in to such apprehension. Never.
He paced on, towards south, hoping to chance upon any Americans.
One day,
Two days,
He stumbled upon a mob of armed people, with dimunitive eyes, single eyelids, and undersized groins. They were called the Vietnamese. And to aggravate matters, they were the Vietcong.
The American soldier was outnumbered. His will to fray was dissipating bits by bits. He saw god's hand reaching out to him. Alas, his quest for eternity had been acknowledged.
Boom, and smoke clogged out the sunlights.
Through the murky dust, he saw an American badge.
Peeps, the quest has no cessation. The fire will rekindle and ignite others again. It will. I assure you.
# posted by Dao @ 11:50 AM 
