Old soul

i am an old soul, i have wisdom and don't chose to be, but i am wise, i learn and these tattered clothes are my disguise, an instinct of a criminal, linguistic of a martial artist, scientific to every inch, every vertebra connects with reality, not forgetting what having manners mean, while others laugh and play, im toiling, not spoiling even one second to make sure my future is progressive, i quit engineering for training, why, ask me where i train, ill tell you that it doesn't matter, ask me how i train, and tell you in the heat of the terrain, in the coldest winter, im indian seated, deep in thought, floating and meditating, experimenting on this opportunity of being in my twenties, im young but im distant from dumb and ive given up on degrees because universities have given up on the real meaning of educating, im learning from the knowledge the world has bestowed on me, knowledge comes in all forms, like a blast, kaboom, not only found in classrooms, not only found in books, but found in mistakes, found in trials, found in tears, found in wise peers, found in the fundamentals of your values, they say when you stand for nothing, you fall for everything, well i stand in the heat of the winter, in the winchill i remain calm, sit still while i write with my imaginary pen-cil, and dig deep into my soul using my experiences as the drill, find the true meaning why money makes us sleepless, why women with thick thighs and thick breasts call for us and breakdown our fortress, but i try to never let the stress trespass and tiptoe passed the pieces of our fragile fiber glass that we call society.