The Story of him - II

He felt sleepy; thinking about death all the time usually makes him slightly tired. And sleep was anyways preferable as it was the closest feeling he ever had that mimicked death. It made him unaware of the world around him, lulled him into a comfortable disbelief that he is suspended nowhere and most importantly, made him dream. Crazy, confused, lustful, coloured - dreams of all sorts and varieties.

RS as his few friends called him was a floating soul. Never having being straitjacketed into a type or a personality, he was infact many things to many people. He was friends to several, people who thought him to be their own, yet they would not realise that he would just float out of their lives, the moment he closed the door behind him. They felt he was their brother, a member of the fraternity, yet were surprised to see him chatting away the girls from the neighbouring society without a care. His friends would be confused at his behaviour but put it off by claiming that all of it was temporary and he would be back to his old group again.