Hanging out alone on long lonely roads a lot after sun-set; brooding behind shut doors with the lights off is so much me. It’s not that I don’t have friends, but basically I’m a loner. I live a life inside myself. Bending down and looking into the dark deep tunnel that I am, I’m not sure if I would end up with anything sensible after any span of time. But then the end has hardly ever mattered.
/*Thoughts doing rounds*/
/*The thinking-man’s-fantasy is just a hypothesis because the thinking-man is just an oxymoron*/

4 comments:

Sakshi said...

thinking man is an oxymoron...?

going too far, innit?

d gypsy! said...

i agree with the 'man is an oxymoron' statement... :) man is too much more than that

ani said...

and in the end it doesnt even matter! :)

wildflower said...

D men chose not to comment on dis one :D