mr. chauffeur

I don't drive.

But I've been in a lot of different cars this summer. 4, I think. Not including my parent's cars.

Cars are like 2nd homes. Like the decoration inside the house, the interior of the car has some personal touches too.

Or maybe I'm just a nosy person, snooping around the glove compartments until I find their personal stuff like sunglasses, perfume, hand lotion, cap, etc.

But there is one car that I remember the most.

Or mostly the quality time I had with the driver.

I can still remember how the interior smelled just like you.

Getting lost, or stuck in a jam is not so bad after all.

We make conversation with each other.

You can sing to me all those songs to that you think are so cool.

Some private 'us' time.

Not to mention all the motion sickness, menggelabah, and the mess I made in your car :)

So to my weekly dating chauffeur, thank you for all those Tg. Malim-Bkt Jelutong-KL trips.

My summer would be incomplete without you.

Of things II

Sometimes the heaviest thing is not the physical package,

But rather the emotional baggage attached to it

Shadow of my past

Headlights of zooming cars

Shaded by the nearby trees

A latern of leaves appear-

a glimpse of my baby night light

Of things

The truth is when I ask for physical things,

I attach feelings and emotions to materials that don't really matter