Strange Guest

The comrade who dwells in my bubble world from my existence,
Some name him “instinct” and few name in a more idiomatic fashion.
But I call him Stranger.
A Stranger for whom my imagination fails to sketch
A portrait of his existence
Though He keeps me company
The unease in his uncanny presence at times
Entices me to reciprocal misjudgments.

Ingenious variety of denial

It starts with quiet hum, an empty space inviting u,“Come inside” it says “we are always open” . Its a world you think that actions have no consequences, where guilt is quote to anonymity, where there are no finger prints.An invisible universe filled with strangers interconnected verbally and disconnected in life.It will steal your secrets and corrupt your identity because in this world where you can be anything you want, anyone you want.

You just might loose sight of who u are.