If I could weave art instead of words, a splash of colours, black and white, a sharp edge, thin and bold lines, shades of grey, random dots indicating flaws, motion on paper, I would.

Music has always inspired a more focused side of me. Its like a lubricant to my thoughts, music, its rhythm  the vocals, the bass, every note easing the congestion that are my thoughts.

Right now, listening to Armin, aside from the natural movements of my limbs to the sounds of trance, my mind creates images of multi coloured ribbons streaming and weaving in the air through a huge cavern, illuminating the walls with luminescence as the walls come alive with vines crawling up to the ceiling where it opens up to a sun rise over a mountain ridge and a hard flowing river at the foreground with a man running along it, desperately chasing something, his breathing ragged and limbs moving too fast for the eye to catch. He runs, a shadow against the bright background until he reaches a summit of sorts and there awaiting him is a small note. As he looks upon the notes, he is brought back to a distant memory of his young life, and colours start flying again.

You know what I miss? Crunching numbers. Doing Mathematics till I go numb and its just a process that I do in my head. Something as simple as a tweet regarding maths triggered this strong desire in my head and I went on to crunch some random algebraic problems in my head. I don't know why, I just do. Random variables here and there. Of course its limited by how difficult the problems I have faced in the past, but it just clicks naturally in my head. I guess its like cheating, doing a test with the answer in hand, but surprisingly, its not. There is no solution at present, just a problem.

Like random phrases that spontaneously pop into my mind, phrases I have read before, in a book some years ago, on an app a moment ago, even in my sleep my mind does this, connecting dots that my conscious mind is too preoccupied to. I grasp their meanings, enlightening sometimes, like catching sand with my hands,  lasting only a moment for my subconscious to capture, but flitting through my fingers as quickly as they arrive. Best thing about it is that its not only in one language.

As the beat increases steadily to a climax, right at this hour, 0200hrs, I feel like running. My body relishes the freedom of movement, the zest of life in the form of the muscles cramping, heart a-thumping and blood rushing through my vessels, the heat emanating from every inch of my body. Sometimes, I run to my limit, till th edges of my vision turn dark and all I hear is my heart beat, just cause. As I run, for every breath I take, every step I make, I remember Him. As I run, my thoughts escape from the gravity of Life and just floats freely, and Thank Him that it goes toward Him, I ponder and I appreciate.

There is no God WORTHY of worship except Allah and Muhammad is His Messenger.

I ponder on values worth worshipping and my mind goes into overdrive as I recollect all that I know of Him. It makes me run harder and faster, almost unbelievably. I let go and my legs just follow the intense train of thought that follows and soon enough, thought ends and I just run with Him in mind. It drives my legs at a very fast pace, the muscles hot from exertion but moment takes over and its all good.

gy·ro·scope  

/ˈjīrəˌskōp/

Noun A device, used to provide stability or maintain a fixed orientation, consisting of a wheel or disk mounted so that it can spin rapidly...