We’ll all die someday, destined to return to the earth from whence we came. I’d like to think of the body as a vehicle that takes you through the journey of life, a rental with a return date.
Most people would like to return their cars unscathed, because it’s a smoother ride when you’re not dragging your fender across the highway. But when it’s time to turn in my set of keys, I’d imagine that I’d be returning something a little less pristine.
Your Friendly Malaysian Writer 