I just finished reading a malay independent journal/book, written by some musician whom I think doing quite well in blaming girls for all the love-pain he suffered. Ok. Kidding. He travels and talks about the life a lot. Beauty at some points.
Reading his, I was thinking of doing mine.
A small triple-five-size-book, covered some of the destination I've been for the last ten years. From the future-less-life in Kampung Sungai Ramal to a week-of-stuck-and-lost-hope in Johor Bahru to the high-and-low-class-night as a Pavilion's part timer, I bet I got lots to share.
Hell, I'm a goddamn seasonal. I just hate to admit it.