Bhoomi's diary

He rattles me and invokes a sense of curiosity.
That makes me wonder what even goes on in that brain of his.
He’s as strange as a character written by an author that I don’t know. But he sure talks like one, like a strange book character.
Nothing about him is cliched though and everything that comes out of his mouth takes me by surprise.
So strange, so weird, yet so him
And if I could switch bodies with someone I would switch mine with his. Nothing romantic like ‘Your Name’ but sort of an experiment.
Because I want to know the thoughts in his crazy head.
I admire him, that I’m sure of, because he baffles me.
Ideas all over the place, he’s like a burst of colors, except they’re his thoughts.
Racing as fast as cars, how could I ever get tired of hearing them?
There’s always so much to discuss with this man. I smile every time we talk; he’s just so interesting and somehow funny without trying.

I used to think the strangest man I’ll ever meet would be someone perhaps creepy? Maybe a serial killer or heck, even a saint, or someone who meditates or has a greater sense of being. But then I found him;
he’s weird in his own ways.
Nothing about him is mundane, but everything is so human.
He’s like a character I would’ve loved to read.
So annoying, yet interesting.
It’s like that character that’s eccentric. Maybe his eccentricity is what makes me like him.
It reminds me of myself.
I feel like I’m his secret admirer, except there’s nothing romantic about us, just strangeness and admiration.
He’s such an annoying person, but when it comes to him, I like being annoyed by him. It’s weird, I know, but so is he.
I write about everything that comes to my mind, so I write about him because he baffles me.
Because sometimes it feels like everyone’s trying so hard to fit into the roles of being a good person that we forget who we even are.
He’s sure a good man, but more than that, he’s him, so authentic and strange, but him, no lies, no fakeness, just him with his authentic strangeness.
I’ve known him for so many years, and yet I could never understand him; he’s a mystery that honestly is better left unresolved.
And his thoughts change so fast I can’t keep track.

And when I call him strange, I meant it as a compliment.
I’ve read a lot, met a lot of people. Yet only a few really rattle me, and he’s sure one of them.
My strange friend, I call it the threads of destiny that bind us, or perhaps all it is is just a big coincidence, but knowing you is intriguing, and it always makes me want to know more..
I’m glad we’re friends, you make my life a little less miserable.