Nikita: Drive One

It's been a long weekend.

The trip to Malacca was cancelled, but in between work, errands for the parents and other things culminating with a very enlightening session with some mentors this afternoon, this Ox is now very, very tired.

Thank God I have CSI: NY to come home to.

Last night, there was that niggling feeling again. The one that starts at the base of your brain, wiggles its way onto some of the more forward parts, burrows in and begins to assault you with waves of unreasoning panic and terror, but mostly melancholy.

And I'm talking about the deep, dark despondent kind. So at about 10.15pm, I took Nikita (that's her name, although my brother insists she's Motoko from Ghost in The Shell, but anyway) out for our first late night drive.

Here are some of my observations during the drive until I entered my apartment complex again at 1.15 am, with background music provided by the playlist on my MuVo Tx FM:

10.25 pm

Does anybody know the way to Atlantis?
What the wind says when she cries?

- New Radicals, Someday We'll Know

The Federal Highway was a blur. Colours, cars zapping by, some thinking LookbabyI'msofastaren'tI, others with brows furrowed in thought, and others still laughing, talking. Everyone heading somewhere, needing to be with somebody somewhen. Nikita purred, and I restrained myself from pressing her too hard. There is a time and place for everything.

11.00 pm

Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog where no one notices
the contrast of white on white

- Counting Crows, Round Here

Petaling Street. Mostly closed, but still open. I'd parked underneath the hotel formerly known as the Impiana, and walked the short distance to Petaling Street proper. A football match of sorts was on, probably one of the local leagues. The streets were still thronged with gawkers, sellers, people checking their trinkets or DVDs, restaurant boys calling gwailos over to sample their delights (but more importantly, their beer) and everywhere I looked there were people busy with something or other, lost in their particular worlds.

We carry whole worlds inside us. Little planets and galaxies of thoughts, all sparkling in their very own tiny constellations. If only we could see, would we be driven mad?

12.00 am

I got a hole in me now
yeah, I got a scar I can talk about

-Matchbox 20, Bright Lights

Jalan Hang Tuah. The aftermath of the football game is so very obvious. Supporters from the losing team line the streets and LRT stations. Some lounge against the walls, a wild animal look in their eyes. There is tension in the air, and somehow it comes through the A/C vents and permeates the car. It is not a good idea to linger, and I refrain from maintaining eye contact.

12.30 am

And I feel, so much depends on the weather
So is it raining in your bedroom?

- Stone Temple Pilots, Plush

Jalan Raja Laut. I can never really understand which part of mass illegal gathering/racing appeals so much to the young Malay psyche. Surrounded, they look at me like I'm some sort of dinosaur. Nikita's not a Maserati, Ferrari, or even a Honda, but a touch to the pedal and the both of us are off, leaving the kids to their dreams on two wheels.

12.45 am

Kerinchi Link. It doesn't take a lot for a Kancil to flip, so when one did, I watched in the five seconds it took me and Nikita to zoom off. Nothing much has changed, I am still a little disturbed, a little hurt, and a lot confused.

But as with anything, they will pass. Maybe this sudden emptiness will too, come morning.

One thing's for certain, though: I think me and the new girl are going to work out just fine.