I will never ride the way I use to do. As I don’t want to go the place where I use to be. From the right edge to the right point to keep the conventional grounds of Narcissist. There are many ways to reach a destination. I chose the way that is full of adventure, the way where we don’t bother to look at the sign boards to see what “they” have decided for us. Might not be the right way, might not be wrong one too. Our way seems to be the right way whichever way it is.

I might never want to sit behind anybody else. With you is the only motion I reconcile. Heartbeats assimilating to the strokes off the engine, to yours to mine. With you I have found the motion that slips me toward the unmoving centre. There is something in those eyes which captivates me, when you stare at me in red jacket like James Dean. A window is opened to show all the broken pieces inside you. The vulnerability, fragile and tender soul, and you running away from all of it, and towards it. I ran towards you, and we ran. Did we ever leave?

It always felt like standing on the other corner of the street, and I just watched, watched and watched in hope that you might cross the line, others have drawn for us.
How would I move either when the perfect distraction is standing in front of me. Contemplating between grounds of desires separated by the boundaries of being everything and everyone, someone but no-one.