I may be a loner but definitely not a man of introspection.
Now, a disastrous mixture, of the forlorn time spent in bed rest and the
fuzziness caused by medication, fueled my journey, a bumpy bad trip. In this
time, when I am screwed to the bed, procrastination has itself become a high
priority occupation; it is the need of the hour as my split personality puts
it.
"Every day you wake up and stare in the mirror through your camouflage,
with your eyes hidden behind a dark mask. What do you make out of the act you
put in front of other mortals? What nirvana do you achieve by chasing after the soul
that is never going to be yours?"
"Take a look at your life, think of all the lives you have
crashed into", the strange folk says. "What a waste man; you’re a pathetic loser",
he screams.
The happy folk looks in the direction of the sound, but he
cannot see anything; it was the sound of silence.
"Without the brightness in your eyes, you are blind; I’m just
a shadow to you." And these words echo around the now fearful happy folk, eating
away the sincerity of his restless soul.
The happy folk looks up and shouts, "Who are you? Why are you
bringing darkness into my life?"
Then came a sound, distant at first, it grew into a thunder.
The strange folk was no outsider now. There were no screams, there was no time.
The strange folk had shown himself. There was silence and then, nothing.
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