The wave is not a regular sinusoidal wave. There are no crests, just troughs.  The troughs plunge deep into the streaming emotions, and find a way to create a cyclonic commotion. The emotions are not at rest, the diving troughs abrupt the flow that filtered,carried and preserved them.  The incoherent layers of emotions produce friction between the mind and heart. These layers get coagulated at the deepest bottom of one's soul. The mountain of incongruity is not shoved away,and it just gets bigger with every breath. 

Hate or love yourself. But being scared of yourself is a feeling that can stab you infinitely. You shiver, and there is a chill down your spine when you witness the gruesome monster in you.  The tremors that fill every blood vessel in your skin uproots your well being.  The the volcano of angst that swirls up in your soul,  burns every pore of skin with it's ire.  Self-loathe becomes a secondary issue to deal with, the crux of the matter is to encounter your self, and not shun the madness and adrenaline rush that blackens every cell in your body.

Trust is a must or foundation covered with rust ?  Is it nonsensical to go about doing the same job of entrusting someone else ? Or is it logical, Because we need not block our opinions owing to few hard hitting betrayals. 

It is more important to be a part of someone's life , rather than being the most important person in his or her life. A part constitutes a whole.  A fragmental contribution to the person's life, makes it worthwhile, and he or she considers you to be an integral segment, without which they are incomplete. Their should not be two halves that unite to form a whole soul. Rather there should be people who, add on to the value of life that pertains to their dear ones.  Each of them , the people involved are fundamental in consolidating our soul.  However dedicating life to just one person, is not justifiable.  This means that there is a surge of dependency from either one side or the feeling is mutual.  There should not be that one person around whom our existence revolves. The quality of being loved or giving love just fades away like the waning moon.  There is no smoothness left in the relation, and the space between the two individuals seems less always.  So to fulfill the lack of interest and passion,  the distance eventually increases in the name of giving space to each other. In time the space engulfs the individuals, and there are two rooms where the emotions become nothing but superficial.  There is nothing left that can perk up the sulky demeanour, there are no colours that can brighten up the essence of being with each other. The greyness of the mood, consumes the soul, and then there is no looking back.  There is nobody to look back at.  That ONE person was your life, but now there's nobody and hence an emptiness is all that is left.

To the men with bubbling hormones, lecherous gestures, ear-bursting whistling and lust filled eyes. Here is a vivid description of your routinely and "Manly" acts. The wistful yearning of a touch, the hope for a grope, the foul howl, the twitch and turn of that uncouth mouth, the filthy drooling that appears ridiculing, the uncanny ability to see through multiple layers of clothing followed by the subsequent string of fascination that brims in your perverted brains, does not make you a MAN.

If you do not hesitate in committing rapes, then we won't think twice before hitting your grapes. For morally depraved and barbaric creatures like you, pepper spray is a bad idea to fray. The villainous instincts in you character invokes repugnance, and provokes us for a brutal vengeance. Your deeds can not be washed away in a jail, instead you should be tied on a rail. The hope for a grope, can be diminished only by strangling your neck with a rope. 

The lust that runs in your blood, will cringe with fear, when our pounds will make you eat the dust. There's no ceased-fire, just released ire. We are Kick-Ass people, because we are highly equipped for kicking asses. The pencil heel, can make you kneel, giving you wounds with zeal. Dare not breach the code of conduct, or else we reach your air duct. Your idea of hitting on a dame is nothing but lame, put a full stop to the pompous demeanour, because you have no idea what happens, when we get meaner.

Meditating in silence to soothe our unnerved selves seems the impeccable road to focus. But is it really?  Does the silence ,pacify the racing negativity in our minds, or does it engulf us in an abysmal  cavity. A cavity that welcomes more appalling imagery, and fazes our sense of focus. The silence is a harbinger of heart-wrenching memories that move in a cyclonic manner,  paralyzing us with eyes closed. So again , The question here is , that is meditating in silence  a cure to our soul or a deeper hole ? .  The answer to the bewildering probe is infact a part of us.  A composed  restrain on the reins of thoughts that intrude the tranquility of our soul, can deliver us an atmosphere of  a melodious silence. However , if we don't strive hard to battle the invading negativity then , the abominable lull can menacingly fetter us, in it's dark abyss.

I saw birds, flying to their homes, right after the rays of sun waved a goodbye for the day , it was a fascinating sight. I wished that I could fly too. The flying wanderers getting lost in the mystery of clouds imbibes a sense of liberty. A liberty from the whirlpool of problems that doesn't let us step out of its viscous cycle.  :)

Easy is to feign Ignorance. Difficult is to restrain the real emotions to a self created  Fence.  Emotions erupt like a seething Volcano. Distance existing between souls united by the foothold of  love wraps up memories in a forbidden box laced with negativity . This jewelled bond now becomes scathed and  constructs a string of polluted thoughts and hesitant moves. The  silence assisted awkwardness brews dark clouds of fear of facing the ones that were once meant for embracing. So, the question that eats our inner beings is , why are we consumed in fear, whilst we think of facing the ones who were dear. Is it the egoistic aspect that diffuses the fright in our soul , or the guilt that one bears in his or her heart.  The deciding element is our heart,  which is a master of this formidable art.