The Tilting Balance

It hardly matters to you when the reality of a situation takes over the mounting labor of bursting emotions.  Certainly it feels outlandish to come to terms with it when nothing particularly in life is going wrong with you. This phase seems to me like an ambivalent melancholy hanging on a balance in between my all-pervasive extremes of ecstasy and glum. There is nothing new about it except that this time I have found a safe distance away from the eye of the storm at least for a while. I have no clue about the span of this blissful convenience but may be for the first time in my life it sounds like a possibility to ignore the clamors and chaos of a troubled mind and its doomed existence.  

On the spectrum of loss and gain from a very mundane perspective nothing looks more disturbing than the proportional inequilibrium in the favor of loss. It is hard to fathom the subterranean currents harboring the future but the very poignancy of this affair seems to be very much in control of the present. The rest lies marred in the spitefulness of selfless deeds and heartbreaking loyalty to prove the point, which was morally wrong in the first place and was never meant to fight a lost battle towards the salvation of a degraded soul shrouded in the darkness of filth and squalor.