Fumble mid-night special Ruck

3:58-Lying in bed.Wondering what time holds for me.The Law of attraction.What am i attracting in my life?
3:59-A min more and it'll be 4 in the morning.I like this time.I like the air at this hour.I wish i was outside.Out side this hostel.Outside this university.Outside Noida...Outside my body.
4:00a.m.-Okay.Reality check-I'm in a girls hostel.They are studying about water gas and auto something.I want to make out.Sadly no one{adhered to by me when most comfortable -duhh,for me}'swings'.
Do i go to college or not.Not really an option.If i wake up that is.My mind strays,meanders into convenient paths.Is self mortification that much of a painful deed?Subconsciously,i do belive in it.There are times when all i can feel is cold numbness.No pain,nor frustration.When you enter a tunnel,it's dark.But somewhere there is this understanding that there's an end to it,where the much awaited proverbial light waits for us.What if you were born in a tunnel?I wondered at times,though we all do get what we want-why do we not accept it with grace?I wanted to learn how it is to be in a state of being attached and yet detached.Do i make sense to anyone more?I have been told by people very special to me to listen to them,to let them help me through the rough patch.One of these special people told me that he can smell trouble brewing up when i spoke to him recently.And i have nothing new to add to that.A lovely teacher with kind pink heart asked me why i'm not talking properly to any of my classmates any more.Fact is i don't see a need to converse that much anymore.I am happy in my corner bed,happy in my dirty cothes and knotted hair,happy observing.Yet that void.This void could probably engulf the whole of hell.I read a very nicely put statement by a brilliant looking-thinking young to be lawyer.It was his custom message for his google account.I connect it with this poem i once read called Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.He[S.T.C]ends the poem on how he wishes that he could recreat the magic of his dream during an 'enhanced' deep sleep.This young friend of mine simply put across the fact that creativity is not made of big words with intellectual implications.It desn't have to be complex.That provides me with some breathing space.Can i evoke that kind of specific sensation to the people i want it from?Maybe.
A green dressed fairy with her hair that forgot it had to be straight came up to me today and hugged me.And after a long time ,i knew it was genuine.And for that finite period i felt like a part of me was returned with gratitude.
There's so much to write.But my body has started giving away physiologically.Once glance towards me would make a top class Nazi officer cry like a lost child.My eyes let me know that they can store an ocean of water in them and when offended they will release their secret weapon against me.God,never think you body is dumb.It's just about as smart as you.Subjectivity credibility.
Time to save the world.Off to lala land.