Inner Demons

Recondite,
in a tenebrous schism.

A wavering reason,
aborted in a frisson
of fear.

Skulked behind a cabalistic curtain,
waiting;
a nefarious serenity,
to be exposed.

An esoteric philosophy;
the benighted soul;
and a very sorry story-
all It has ran afoul.

As the nigritude envelopes,
our morals shall elope.
Displaced by sheer iniquity,
virtues shall lose their loyalties.

Inner demons,
how very much we struggle?
How will we ever figure?

A bleak drab and a smile,
this reality is no more vile.

cuRRent...jer  ¶ 7:31 pm

  Subjugation

"Why do you coerce me? If you could realise how miserable it renders me, would you desist from forcing me to go to school? Would you not threathen or cajole me anymore? I think I know what I am doing. " cuRRent...jer




  ¶ 6:16 pm

  Pharisees Bounteous

"Lamentably, my consequent few entries will be about my habitual dissatisfaction with my current school. " The Faculty of Aggrandizement

An imperiously effeminate operations manager who dogmatically cannot seem to realise his workplace is in one of the filthy toilet cubicles. A principal who is irrevocably in need of an epilator. A condescending discipline master who has established himself by transmorgifying into an effigy of some unsightly feline. A discipline mistress who would rather caper in the vesicle of her tudung than to maul it. A handful of indolent teachers who entirely uphold their propensity to be malingers, one even claimed I was "Smart Alex" (When did Aleck become Alex?)...Parochial, unimaginative, decidedly self-righteous. Excellent dispositions to complement the staff.

Welcome to this school. it will never be mine. How do you like it?

Of course, I cannot pardon the students there either. Boorish, brusque, boisterous bunch of retards (Oh look! Alliteration! Odds that they cannot comprehend the art either). What were they thinking? Smoking in cubicles (Will they ever realise the rooftop is much more a picturesque location? Get out of there people, you are encroaching on the operations manager's workplace), involvement in triads, et cetera? I yearn to heal them but where do I start?

The Council (Prefectorial Board) is unmitigatedly ineffective. Call it a council and I could die of hysteria. Did they ever realise the quagmire of malice in the school? Or even if they did, will The Council be able to briddle the wanton rabidity that seems to infect the school? Or did I disremember that they could only stand inertly at staircases to perhaps fortify the school's anti-larceny system, it being positively unavailing ultimately? And I pray I did mention The Council, like the school, is an intrinsically autocratic system en masse?

Undeniably, an impeccably unabbreviated travesty of SJI. I do often wonder, how in my basal encounters with them, I have very much etched into their memory I was a force to be reckoned with. Exactly, they could neither finesse nor surmount my magniloquence. "Lambasting is thy metier"

This is neither a compliment nor an animadversion -- just a conclusion.

cuRRent...jer



  ¶ 10:44 am

  The Faculty of Aggrandizement

Lamentably, my consequent few entries will be about my habitual dissatisfaction with my current school.

"This is probably why I got myself mired in some detestable school now." Runaway

I concede. I am most averse to associations with the putridness and the vileness of my present school. I profess. Its an abomination that cannot be merely written and it does certainly qualify as an anathema. It would positively be a onerous task to transcribe my profuse disdain into words. Do bear with me.

Surely, the school is very much of base material; plebeianly horrid. After all, does one expect any form of poshness or even civillisation in a neighbourhood school? Everything that is there, is repulsively distatsteful. I am not being haughty. Its an immanent culture that people and the system within embrace. And how very much they become ignorant...However, they do rather well to provide exciting insight into the neanderthals of the Pleistocene Epoch .

Instead of endeavouring to ameliorate such adverse and ignoble circumstances, the school engages, or rather, indulges in senseless aggrandizement, exampli gratia, to gasconade about its substantial involvement in some purportless "World Largest Collage" (I must accentuate on the notion that I am not against philanthropic activities, but to exploit them to elevate somehow the status of something or someone is distressingly undesirable), delivering painfully execrable yet contrived speeches or rather pure verbiage (do not remind me to mock their oratory proficiency), trying too much to implement a cashless tuckshop system, et cetera.

It is a dynamisim unfounded, the effots misguided, paving the way to probably the best asylum in Sembawang. It is just...simply abhorrent.

cuRRent...jer

Nota Bena : The entry was initially a poem entittled " Lachrymose Aggrandizement".

  ¶ 1:25 pm

  Convictions

I realised I have become deliriously obsessed with blogging. It has certainly liberated a lot of vehemence, a lot of repressed emotions; without me breaking into my usual fanciful pyrotechnics(Its a miracle! Goddess bless!) Its rather exhilarating to view my completed blog. There is somewhat fufillment. I must say I am extremely impressed at my ability to posess something that has become truthfully mine.

I have reviewed some of my friends' blogs. They are rather amusing but it depicts usually perfunctory madness and tedious quotidian events. However, their backgrounds are unusally copacetic; awfully arresting. In other words, the content is downright inane. I am not about to elaborate on nomenclature though.(Jeremy...please desist from such vituperation!)

I am in utter awe for such accomplishment. My blog is horrible. There is not much to vaunt. My background is vapid. However, I was quite thankful when one of my acquaintance commented, "Your blog is lithely comely. Splendid phrasing, indicated by swift elegance, captivates the reader's interest. Your poetry is most resplendent. Excellent job!" Well, that was content-wise.

I suppose my blog would never be good as some of my friends'...decoration-wise.


cuRRent...jer

  ¶ 9:50 am

  Selfless

This entry is dedicated to my mother.

"You know, when you lose your temper, the person who gets hurt the most is actually your mother..." Bro. Mike

I have a proclivity for anger.When suppressed for too long, the receptacle for indignation ruptures and I will have to struggle for sanity. When incensed, I am absolutely disoriented; I have not the slightest impression of reality. If complemented with depression, my miff would be stupendously amplified. People in the ambit of my petulant yet destructive rampage gets hurt. Goddess, I am Mr Hyde when I am mired in such circumstances.

My mom( I have nothing but adulations for her) tenaciously stood by me, while I have been befuddled by choler. She provided morale sustenanace, walked with me and circumnavigated through countless intricate obstacles with me. She waited for me when I needed her to.

However, I have hurt her so much. In my depression, I threw my weight around because I was ostensibly sick. She was pertincaious though. She reminded me to take the medication. She tucked me into bed. She was the sweetest. She was the most gorgeous.

She's selfless. That is a trait I probably inherited from her. She taught me compassion and love. That is why I probably could heal. Even so, I am an ineffectual and very much an ill healer. As much as I do indulge in self-pity, I want the very best for the people around me. Like her, I do not really care about my own fortunes or happiness. You could probably call that altruistic, but then again, the healing I can do for anyone is minimal. Perhaps when I do manage to heal anyone...

Currently, my mom limits and impugns on my excursions because of her paranoia. My healing is thus inhibited. I cannot reach out to as many peoplae as before. This is the thing I desire to say to her " Mom, I love you so dearly, please, you cannot keep me at your side eternally. I thank you for being there for me and I promise I will be there at your side too. But we are selfless, we cannot belong just to each other. There are others that need our healing."

cuRRent...jer  ¶ 9:02 pm

  Recrudescence

"Viva est mortes...mortes est nata neo vivum..."cuRRent...jer

Translation:
When life is death, death is being reborn to new life.

  ¶ 1:57 pm

  Deviation


An inclination,
a predilection.

It's simple.

Just a slight affirmation,
it's impossible to retract.

Unhurriedly,
it would take,
it would consume,
the queerness ineluctable.

The abberation entrenched,
scorned,
mocked,
locked,
beneath the orthodoxy.

The dynamics decree,
an unseen power,
to ostracise,
this phenomenon.



A sigh. A beat.

And a depature.

cuRRent...jer





  ¶ 1:07 pm

  Runaway

I confess. I have been rather miserable, and its probably not about to change. As much I pray for peace of others, I constantly discount myself. I wish I could really runaway from this existence. Its a horrible feeling, to wake up everyday, and to go through many hours of oppression. Its painful to see depression, bereavement...its a catholic plague that seems very much to afflict all living things. It hurts to see the beautiful things around because of impermenance. It all perishes. Then all is lost. "Putrefaction as a law of nature", they call it. Eventually, you will die. Finally, I will be very much dead. We become dust.

Is there a power to perpetuate happiness? Or will sadness be intermittently tormenting us, obliterating every glittering smiles or the jocular disposition from one ? Will there be a panacea to obviate the blood that seeps from our hearts? "Everything that has a beginning has an end"

That is what I fear most. Everything ends. The viccistudes are whimsical. That is why I hate to be happy, I hate to be even slightly glad. I loathe gratification. But I hate disconsolation too. Its like I am a rope in tug-of-war.

I endeavour as much as I could to embrace my predicaments. I try so very hard to embrace the people around me. But I fail, almost always. I break down and mutilate myself, ravage my life. This is probably why I got myself mired in some detestable school now. I was eneveloped and blinded by melancholy.

I think I lost melvin (my didi whom i love a lot) already yesterday , and I probably anticipated that (why didn't I avert this stygian reveltaion?) . I lost joel ( i don't know why) . I lost Kip (the dog which I picked up from the street)...

I guess I have whined enough..I will contiune to lose things, and I am not ready to lose some more things now...People around me..please, stay with me, I cannot lose you people now, I could die but still live and I don't want that . I still yearn very much to runaway from this truth of impermenance and the perenial sadness.

cuRRent...jer









  ¶ 10:34 am

  The Dynamics of nspiration

Pale as the white breeze,
the eye cannot maketh this silent crease-
the unfathomable trough,
the exonertaing power,
the formidable zennith.

She is what maketh words,
and what maketh beauty.
She speaks, she reeks...

Oh! How she piques my curiousity!
How she delves into the penetralia of one!
Her tumidity, her bloatedness, her obesity,
cannot be seen, but she harbours.

how she dredges the nebulous truth of reality,
how she contests the implications of our fidelity.

The day she will succour our win,
is perhaps not prim.
She's a heretical anomaly,
she's a miscreant,
but she blows past,
like the wind,
and our triumph is secured.
and the pulchritude that protracts.

Out of a single her.

cuRRent...jer  ¶ 10:20 am