Out of my mind.

I have been reading a lot these days. The times I'm not in class I'm reading. Sometimes in class I'm reading. At other times I'm writing. It seems to be getting a bit out of hand and I seem to be getting a bit out of my mind. I do mean that literally. It does scare me sometimes when I think about how anti-social I seem to have become. Is it the arrogance of youth or is it a more stranger malaise. I wish I had the answer for that as it would go a long way in explaining this strange play. The first act included a lot of characters. The second one, just me.

I don't think I can blame the people for my behaviour. Yes, I guess I'm arrogant but not that much. So I will just blame myself. For this ever increasing disconnection from the real world. But I'm not sorry. There, I'm being arrogant again. I should probably take that back. But I won't. Sometimes even I can tell the truth.

So where will I end up if I continue like this. Probably all alone sometime pretty soon. When my youth is no more. For the simple reason that youth seeks youth. Or maybe I will end up with a wife and three kids. Or maybe with a cat and three dogs. Or maybe with just my books and writing. Seems like I'm already there...

A wait of a lifetime.

I saw her sitting on the couch next to mine in the student lounge. It was about five in the evening and I had finished a class. It was a strange moment. I felt like I wanted to know her, to talk to her, ask her story. She looked like she had a lot on her mind and despite that she glanced at me three times. Yes I was counting. I wonder what she was thinking when she looked at me. Was she thinking what I was. She must have. Maybe that’s why I felt this compulsion to keep looking.

I have since kept wondering if I will ever see her again. It’s been impossible to stop thinking about her. My senses are on full alert and I keep looking. For her. On the bus, on the train, on the streets. I spend most of my time in the lounge waiting. For her. I don’t fully understand or appreciate why. I am sure there is a justifiable reason for this psychotic behaviour. Maybe I am going mad. But that, probably, is not true because I heard crazy people don’t think they’re crazy.

I think its the look she gave me. Three times. Yes, that must be it. I’m not looking for her because she was really beautiful or because I want to sleep with her. Yes, I’m positive about that. But I really want to find her. I am not sure about what I will tell her when I do. How does one tell someone they don’t know that they’ve been looking for them. But I will cross that bridge once I get to it. I am desperate to find a way to that bridge.

Surely this must have all happened in my head. Surely there was no such moment. But that won’t stop me from looking. For you. There are many things I need to ask you. You know where I wait. Please do come.