Finding Panacea

Sometimes I feel I am Anachronous to veracity
And other times a paradox to my own findings
Is it because of immolated facts I reconsider,??/ a filched memory that is relinquished?!
Or does this occur when I am left in a chasm of turmoil?!??!

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.

Unprecedented !!

My brain feels claustrophobic right now, copious thoughts gushing at the same time in different tones like the wild waters hitting from each pebble to humungous rocks, taking diversions fluctuating from its norm. Simple issues made complicated .Is that how life nurture’s us to face all mood swings. I guess the supreme power has carved a cordial injustice crafting the human brain in such fashion that it sometimes tricks our fidelity towards our grey cells.

Sissor kicks!

Sometimes trimming that extra fat out of your life just feels so damn. . . GREAT! Cutting out those people who have served no other purpose but to suck the spirit and life out of you turns out to be one of the most freeing and liberating choices one could ever make, when before it felt like one’s heart was being torn out.
So, moving up and on. Going forward, I resolve to surround myself with people who respect me, my moral convictions, and who do not degrade and condescend me based on them, with people who are still on my list of those for whom I would gladly lay down my life without batting an eye.
And that list is now one person shorter.

Shackles

Destiny clinches life to imponderable clutches.
From the cord in her womb to the bleak dome to eternity.
Smothered at first
Realized later
That emancipation from these shackles
Is the dawn of a cloistered putrid and a brooch for a mocking infamy.

Motherhood

So Beautiful and picturesque in her attire with an infant in her bosom. An object to remind me of divine maternity. Sacred image of sinless motherhood whose infant was to redeem the world. The taint of the deepest sin in the most sacred quality of human life. The world was only darker for this woman’s beauty. And the more lost for the infant that she had borne.