Dear Odie2

It breaks my heart to see you all broken like this.

Even more so to hear the news that we have to change your chassis.

I have barely gotten any mileage with you and your first accident had to be such a major one. 

Thank you... 

For the convenience going through tolls with your build-in TnG tag.

For the few naps I have had in you. 

For the 6am drives to the wet market during the years in lockdown. 

For the random road trips by the river and through the paddy fields. 

For the long distances you cover to Robina beach. 

For the trips up to Batu Ferringhi's Starbucks, Hard Rock and Rasa Sayang.

I grew confident and bold in my driving because of you. 

The speed we got up to was only possible because it was you. 

And it was your strong body that is what saved me from what might have been a worse scenario.

I look forward to the new you.

The new chassis that we will go road trips outstation with. 

Every bit of you will still be an original part from your manufacturer's. 

And in the meantime, you are dearly missed. 

I know you are in good hands, Odie2. 

In God we trust. 

1st Major Damage to Odie2

'God is holding you' 

No words can describe the feeling of knowing that to its fullness in a situation like that.

I got away with a bump on the head, some bruises and a scratch.

It is significant to know all the people that are there for you in a moment like this. 

Even more so a God that protected you. 

You never stop learning....

Trying my best to be a good mentor, and at the final leg of this small project....

What else can go wrong?

Laughable moment in service

Vroom vroom vroom!

Someday I hope to look back and still be very amused by how I sound like a Lamborghini on a 60km per hour road here. A runaway racing horse taking some dainty folks in a carriage for a ride. 

May I always burn with such vigor for You. 

Scissors that matters

It's been many years since I took this out. 

One of my oldest memories involved nipping my mother's finger with this. 

I don't remember how it happened, but I remember all of a sudden there was a good amount of blood all over the floor, the cloth and even on this scissors. 

It happened late in the night as I also remember the hushed tones in the chaos because my father was already asleep. 

I had some polka-dot pajamas bottoms in those days that I'm sure were formed from cloth with these. 

Dark blue with white dots. 

I wore them at the wake.

There was not many other pieces of clothing that did not have any red or bright colors on it. 

That sticky brown part at the tip looks abit like it has dried blood on it.

It is probably only my imagination.... fueled by a what if, a longing, a missing of someone I don't even remember what it felt like to have had anymore. 

But I can't bear to clean it properly. Just in case. 

2ee had her own pair of black scissors that looked even more menacing than this one. 

She was also always making me stuff from scratch in the good old days. 

I hope it is still around somewhere for me to claim ownership on.