Sound.

The feeling of having a car of your own but unable to drive it around as you wish is really taking a toll on me. It's not that I can't learn to drive it around on my own. It's the feeling I get whenever I sit in the driver's seat. I am constantly burdened by the fact that I might kill someone from a minor mistake I make while driving. When I'm on the road, I'm more worried about everyone's safety than mine. Not only the passengers in my car but the people surrounding the car. The other drivers, the motorcyclists, the people by the roadside. It's like I'm playing God when I'm driving ; everyone's lives are in my hands. I'm terrified by that.

There are just too many factors that could go wrong. I might be able to eliminate the few factors that I can control (my alertness, my driving skills, etc) but everything else is beyond me. There is just too many factors that I am unable to take charge and say, 'Okay, here is how it goes'. All I can do is believe that the other drivers will take care of other drivers on the road. All I can do is trust them for a few seconds that they are not trying to kill me or turn the road into a dangerous track of doom.

My dad kept telling me to relax while driving. Well, Dad, how can I relax when I am constantly badgered by the thought that I might kill someone with a wrong move from my side? How? How do you people drive around like it's the easiest thing in the world? 

Door.

Also, everyone should read this : Vanessa's glorious post about shit on Facebook. Because it's fucking hilarious. 

Chart.

I just successfully walked into a door. A freaking wooden door. I'm not sure if that's something I should be proud about but it would be something I'll share with my children (that is, if I have kids) in the future.

"Kids, Mommy has something to tell you. You must always listen to me or Santa will hide under your bed and make creepy, gargling noises when you sleep (because Santa uses mouth wash like, all the time), okay? Mommy once walked into a door and the door keepers weren't happy about it. And they took all the doors away and there were no doors anymore. The End. The moral of the story is don't walk into any door you see."


You know, for a person who had no prior training in basketball, I'm pretty awesome at getting the ball through the hoop. I was playing basketball with the boys in my Boys' Brigade company and I actually managed to shoot the ball into the hoop three times in a row. Sometimes, I surprise myself. This got me wondering about the other things I was reluctant to try, worried that people might snigger behind my back, or even laugh in my face. But now, I'm motivated to try out not-so-crazy-but-could-be-embarrassing-if-I-suck things. Like, painting a scenery. Now, where did my poster colours go to?