Another fiction?

Do you remember when I told you that I never enjoyed the Saraswathi Dikshithar Kriti, sorry, I enjoyed to the extent that the fourth person came out of me swinging my tongue like I could feel him inside me, like I knew I was not the person I think anymore. That’s the first time I realized my own potential, I don’t know, potential, yes. Maybe I realized I’m not the one who should be running. If they got inside of them, I got it too, my own. Then one day, I realized these people are terrified of me, the thing I become at night, I began to understand what I thought what’s happening to me, my morning tiredness, all those evidences which made me think otherwise, all came to light. I have my own night life. Then one day I felt myself at darkness, and something was telling me it’s not the right time, from that day, that evening, I was less afraid of the darkness. Now, you tell me, why should I run? I know there are still surprises inside of me, more than I can handle right now.