This is my freewrite in response to Monday's prompt provided by 
We are a compilation of outbursts, evolved in the image of earth itself, which in turn came to be from a cosmic outburst.
We explode in laughter and anger with the same unpredictability of our planet. Volumes can be written behind every explosion.
We may bloom in colors and fragrances only to flood and crash what took so long to build.
Mood forecast can be as accurate as weather forecast, but equally ignored.
Are we innately masochistic for loving that which begets outbursts?
We insist on caring for the same planet that gives us earthquakes, volcanoes, tornadoes, and draughts with the same expectations we care for those who give us tantrums, insults, and bruises.
Can we claim responsibility for the good as well as the bad?
Can we heal and regulate ourselves like earth does?
We are a compilation of outbursts noone can fully read or understand.
