Music is an addiction. I always "over-play" when I have to study.
Today is Friday the thirteenth. I love these days. I'm not saying I'm one to enjoy the misfortune others suffer, or that I think people who take extra care on such days are idiots, but it's just cool.
I was born on a Saturday. But if it were a day earlier it wouldn't be a thirteenth anymore.
I believe there is no such thing as an accident. I'm not sure why, but it seems reasonable. Everything seems to happen for some reason or another. Like that fateful day when I auditioned for some occasion I didn't have a clue about...
By the way, I can't find my pick. Again. I even took the trouble and cleaned up my cluttered desk with hope of seeing that triangle of brown again. I don't know why I misplace my picks all the time. I found another one though. One of the thick 'Epiphone' picks that came with my dad's bass.
Since I figured my most favoured pick would turn up some other time, I used another purple pick.
Purple pick.
Nostalgia.
My arm hurts. Stephanie and Izzah kept poking one of my bruises (that one on the arm) again and again and again because they have itchy hands.
I want to give Izzah fifty thousand push-ups for that.
And I must remember to pass Fatehah that book she wants to borrow from me.
I suffer from memory loss.
P.S. Today I started BM tuition. It wasn't as bad as I expected, but slightly awkward. Can't even remember the name of the place.
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