Me a saint!

This illness is getting to me in a big way.The whole day went past as a dream.I wasn't sleeping,techincally speaking.I probably was wafting in and out of a dream like state.A surface sleep,if you will.I chose to play some western classical music today.Not play as in ME playing it,but play it in the music system.Beethoven or any of the other old foggies for fucks sake were playing wonderfully structured music as my dreams were interwoven of the real things that happened in past and the fantastic-futuristic things which my drug fried mind was throwing up.I was conscious of my body lying at an awkward angle on the bed,the pillows tangential to my head.I always had a bad posture.A sort of loose limbed way while I am standing,sitting or lying.I also was conscious of a loss of desire.Not even that--a loss of even the desire to desire.High fever,in that sense takes one closer to what the sages might term as 'Nirvana'.A total shedding of the desires.I was a saint.Just then the phone rang.I looked sideways.It was raining.The lights were too dim and the whole atmosphere had a surreal gloomy look.I watched it adoringly,soaking in the stillness and the dampness.The phone was rining incessantly.I was enoying ,with a great pleasure,the uneasiness and the irritation of whosoever was calling me up,as I imagined for me not picking up the phone.I let it ring again.And then I picked up the receiver,and barked “yeah”..the voice on the other side said something about some credit cards they wanted to sell.I didn’t speak at all.The voice seemed a bit concerned “you there sir?” .”yeah,I am there.was kinda bored of whatever you were yapping about.can you repeat what all you just ranted?”…there was silence..and then they disconnected the line.I kept the receiver pressed to my ear.The sound of the disconnected beep was feeling beautiful.The phone is now off the hook.No one can disturb me.Wegner I guess is playing some symphony to the ‘victory of the kind human soul’.I just love Germans,for their sense of timing.