Counter - Statements

It is raining now. 

And everytime it rains, it makes me realize that I have my own set of contradictions inside my mind.

On some days, I love the sound of heavy rain and find oxymoronic silence in the battering of the rain on the roof; the pelting of the rain on the window and the gentle water drops dribbling along the drenched trees. I love the smell that accompanies rain, one shade darker colour of the environment, the cool breeze and the summer drenching in sky cries. Cries of happiness I assume. 

On some days, I just treat rain as one of the seasons that is annoying and is synonymous with dirty toes, wet clothes, overflowing drainage systems, solid wastes floating on the waterlogged roads, traffic jam, excreta in semi liquid form, muddy potholes and exasperation. 

On some days, the infinite shades of gray brings me nauseating moments. The sound of the rain disgusts me. I look at the pile of sludge resulting from the illicit cuddling of Earth and Water with distaste. I probably label love on those days. I label love with detaching coldness. I label love with reservation. I label love with indifference. 

On some days, the rain drops seem to be the carriers of countless emotions, simultaneously. The bright sunny day painted with gray makes me gloomy. I hear the sound of whisking - dejections with half a plate of rejections. Whizzing irreversible mistakes, dart of panic, pouncing anxieties, stampede of words, rushing regrets, a cascade of charcoal cognition, cataract vision, emotional blends of impenetrable obscurity, frustration froth and extreme wroth. 

On some days, I feel down during a downpour. My mood downshifts during heavy rain and I feel grief-stricken. I feel I have nothing in my hand and my happiness depends on the colour of the sky. On others, to be specific and honest. The time during the late evenings with the colour of the sad clouds make me crestfallen to the level that I experience a certain kind of discomfort in my chest. More mental than physical. There is a suffocating feeling. May be, a homogeneous mixture of suffocation and agony. Probably, my serotonin dislikes the color gray. 

On some days, I feel romantic. Romantic and Amorous. Amorous and Affectionate. Affectionate and Attentive. Attentive and Absorbed. Absorbed and Assimilated. Assimilated and Accepted. Accepted and Assumed. Assumed and Reckoned - nested contradictions probably.