Beautiful lil thing.
Well, its not little. It’s a huge fat thing. I’m tiny in it.
It gets me places. I’m happy. I just wished it passed inspection.
Cars really do break down a lot. Shitzzzz.
Owning a car is kinda alien to me. I have a new status now–car owner. Status kinda alien to me.
Somehow, owning a car feels different from owning a macbook, or a new cellphone, or a person (if i may say that?)
This time I am owning something larger than me, something that carries me in it, that swallows me. This feels really alien to me.
I drive, previously, in Singapore, my family car. But this is different. I own this. And owning means responsibility.
And responsibility means taking care of it. And like anything else, I don’t feel secure without knowing my baby inside out. So I’m going to find out.
