I will make sense someday.
If not today, some other day.
With quirky pattern of my sleep, I shall have a hour or two to talk to you when you would turn and toss in your bed restlessly.
Someday your blindfolds will fall off and I shall show you the mosaic of my colorful musings. Trust me, you will appreciate my art.
When you are done with the lies you hear every now and then, you will come to me and I would have an honest word or two to whisper to you.
Till then,
You laugh at me and I pray I never make sense to you.
Because nothing else will make sense to you afterwards.
Plus, I prefer staying alone in my world of nonsense.
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