with a cracked skull i walk,freefalling the world pass me. the rush and the gush of blood. Expected but never came. Puzzled look as queries arise. why to they strive? my beat is mine.. i'm bleeding just fine. Deceiving are the looks, as the trickle feeling warms my mind.

Whoever says that the pulse on your hand beats the same as your heart, a fool is he for that can never be. The pulse driven by grip is different from the one driven by guilt. note the difference of physicality and touch, it's there but no it ain't much.

fold your arms. and poke your teacher. see him glare n call u mister. kick him then, and say sorry friend. then walk n leave him there. who when why what?! what nothing, don't shiver, it's all something. now start counting, one two three four. fuck you, you've never counted before?. ten sixteen one a thousand and three. there that's my way, what's yours?. your path to be free?

Big Fish (interpretation by Haider)