Sitting all alone in his cold dark room, all he used to do was thinking about the things that made him somewhat happy and sad too. He was not aware of the events that were going on around him. He was not aware of the incidents taking place inside his house even. He was not acquainted with the idea of society and social relations. He was just indulged in thinking; weaving fabrics of untold stories with the threads of his thoughts. He was alone but surrounded by the welcomed or unwanted thoughts. Thoughts were the entire treasury he had. He had no intention of meeting people. He had no affection of short or long conversations. Conversations seemed him fake and out of his world. He never liked people because of his inability to understand fake expressions that people used to have while talking. He had fear of facing relatives that appeared him more strangely than the strangers with no acquaintance of his self.
Though, he had all the pleasure of being captive in the prison of his thoughts, but somewhere in the depth of his unconscious self he was curiously trying to get free. Free in his self. He tried holding his thoughts back. He tried making all kind of efforts to break this magic of thoughts. Thoughts were charming, but making him dull in his outer appearance. Most of the time he looked lost. Lost in a world of thoughts that has no way out. He did not care whether society finds him lost or not. But, what made him afraid was his own appearance in the mirror. Whenever he faced the mirror, he found himself lost; he was lost and confined inside the thick walls of cold dark room. Indeed, he was a prisoner of his own thoughts.