Muse

The journal.

The diary.

The confidante.

That box of nostalgic objects stored and stashed in the most insignificant places.

The photo albums.

Mine is in my itunes. Each song with their lyrics are my own story to tell in someway. I like how each stringed notes evoke a different memory and emotion each time they are played.

I feel like a bars of Mars earlier. Of Snickers. I was staring into space at "Beautiful Mess"by Mraz earlier. Sipped tea and wished I had a field with kites to sit in with my book. But am trapped somewhere in the towering concrete jungle with no desirable timing to embark on a quest to find a park.

At 5pm in Sunway, you need a certain degree of patience and foolishness to head out road-tripping. Because you know all you will get is this notorious massive carpark jam. All the Mars bars and Snickers couldn't save your temper.

Hmmm. Mars baars.....Snicckerss.....

Now I wish I carry my Mr simms jellybeans around.

Roar.