Sleeping late ..too late

Read Catcher in the Rye yesterday night. Quite a strange book it was. Well, i never encountered this style of writing earlier. I heard that it is a classic and is sort of used in schools etc in the west! Its as different from the traditional classics as it could possibly be. It really is. I suppose the author was very true to the lingo of a typical seventeen year old of that time. An excellent and very very long analysis of the protagonist can be made. But i just say that he appeared to hate human conversations and humans in general...except very few individuals. Actually i dont think i am even remotely qualified to say anything about such a popular and well read book.

Now i am going to get abstract. Very abstract. I really am.
Not sure of what lies beneath. There is always the hope, that i would obtain/achieve ... But what do i really want, i do not know. I am not very sure. I look at the various options, some evidently almost out of reach, some which could be reached, if conscious efforts are made towards them. But as usual, hesistancy is a major factor. Dont want anything to be known or even slightly clear to the externals. In fact, there is that really major doubt of whether or not too much importance is being given where none is officially required. Maybe at the right time, oppurtunity would present itself. And trying to hurry matters may actually push or even obliterate the possible emergent oppurtunity. Once again, the question arises, what actually is craved for ?
Physically what is wanted...consciously what is desired...mentally what is needed. Its is certainly not just an object. Cannot be definately pointed out physically. It is much much more i guess. But is it even 'it' ? Maybe such a thing is not even possible? Another important question is, why do is it considered needed? Is that a genuine desire, or better, requirement or is it just a fancy fad?
Whenever a slight chance is noticed, thoughts about making an attempt are born. But they do not grow into actions. Or by the time, an action is ready to be executed, it becomes redundant. Luck plays a major part. Maybe, only it plays a part. Maybe maybe.

I better try and advance in my agent thing. It seems to be getting stagnated so often. I hope we are not taking it to coolly. But the factor which determines the work is not at all related to it. So late again today...how will i be able to work tomorrow morning? :((

A droopy eye,
an unheard sigh
so very tired,
why dont you lie

the body is anxious,
the bed it cries for.
the mind though exhausted
wants to be awake more.

some slight disappointment
some slight frustration
but what is the cause
there's no revelation

an yawn makes an appearance
the eyes no longer sense
the hand decides by itself
and removes the lens

There's no alternative left
this poem should end now
preparing to go to bed,
this author retires with a bow.