Inspiration...Sadness...and whatever life takes
Sunday, November 23, 2003
Disturbed
"Strange people come terrorize my blog everyday" cuRRent...jer
The covenant of the chalice,
a lament that never sought to cease.
Upheld in the wolf's bane,
that kept the sanest sane.
Blood drips forth,
as sealed in the fort.
A disguise in the rain of death,
such swiftness rendered deft.
The rise of the crimson sun,
entwined in the grasps of the urn.
Seduced by the glom of a grave,
nothing shall be saved...
Truth in the crepuscular balance,
a call in the ecumenical sense.
Silent, moonless, fading,
disturbed is this oneiric reading.... ¶ 7:50 pm
"Strange people come terrorize my blog everyday" cuRRent...jer
The covenant of the chalice,
a lament that never sought to cease.
Upheld in the wolf's bane,
that kept the sanest sane.
Blood drips forth,
as sealed in the fort.
A disguise in the rain of death,
such swiftness rendered deft.
The rise of the crimson sun,
entwined in the grasps of the urn.
Seduced by the glom of a grave,
nothing shall be saved...
Truth in the crepuscular balance,
a call in the ecumenical sense.
Silent, moonless, fading,
disturbed is this oneiric reading.... ¶ 7:50 pm
Epistalatory Reciprocration
"___: however,the standards here are fatally abysmal
___: I was told that this was a fantastic 'blog' ,in which the 'blogger' engages the reader in intriguing passages.
___: Cool? U people are obviously from neighbourhood schools,judging frm ur level of intelligence and grievously appaling command of the english language " Tagboard on http://embracethecurrent.blogspot.com
Most revered reader of my blog with the awfully stilted psuedonym,
It is almost a pleasant surprise of a person with exquisite or perhaps even epicurean tastes to patronise my blog, and in truth, "fatally" gratituous. I positively relished in the fatutous sardony you managed to contrive (Standing ovation? Thank Goddess "copious amounts of absurdity" did not come to my mind). Your acerbity was little lacking though, rather distasteful, don't you think? Maybe, olive oil and some dashes of vinegar would do.
Continue your good work, altruistically devestating "The Neighbourhood School" image (That I am very much an exponent of) and finally your father's economy; you ostensibly should find yourself some abyss as esoteric as your impeccable "Standards of English Language" could advocate and ultimately surprise yourself with it. Wonderful smiles and all joy. Have a "fantastic" day.
cuRRent...jer
P.S It is only dreadful that one should pique my intellectual curiousity. Quite conspiciously, confess your sins, perpetrator! =p Besides, I would neither eviscerate nor decapitate such un-neighbourhood school people, I suppose.
P.P.S Very evident that your efforts were not as heuristic as I have anticipated. The British Council Loves you, so do I! =p
To my other readers.
No, I never attended The British Council at all. It is just the style of writing ressmbles very much the insipidity of such a product. Thank you for your keen support and the utterly gracious compliments.
cuRRent...jer
¶ 3:31 pm
"___: however,the standards here are fatally abysmal
___: I was told that this was a fantastic 'blog' ,in which the 'blogger' engages the reader in intriguing passages.
___: Cool? U people are obviously from neighbourhood schools,judging frm ur level of intelligence and grievously appaling command of the english language " Tagboard on http://embracethecurrent.blogspot.com
Most revered reader of my blog with the awfully stilted psuedonym,
It is almost a pleasant surprise of a person with exquisite or perhaps even epicurean tastes to patronise my blog, and in truth, "fatally" gratituous. I positively relished in the fatutous sardony you managed to contrive (Standing ovation? Thank Goddess "copious amounts of absurdity" did not come to my mind). Your acerbity was little lacking though, rather distasteful, don't you think? Maybe, olive oil and some dashes of vinegar would do.
Continue your good work, altruistically devestating "The Neighbourhood School" image (That I am very much an exponent of) and finally your father's economy; you ostensibly should find yourself some abyss as esoteric as your impeccable "Standards of English Language" could advocate and ultimately surprise yourself with it. Wonderful smiles and all joy. Have a "fantastic" day.
cuRRent...jer
P.S It is only dreadful that one should pique my intellectual curiousity. Quite conspiciously, confess your sins, perpetrator! =p Besides, I would neither eviscerate nor decapitate such un-neighbourhood school people, I suppose.
P.P.S Very evident that your efforts were not as heuristic as I have anticipated. The British Council Loves you, so do I! =p
To my other readers.
No, I never attended The British Council at all. It is just the style of writing ressmbles very much the insipidity of such a product. Thank you for your keen support and the utterly gracious compliments.
cuRRent...jer
¶ 3:31 pm
Friday, November 21, 2003
Lexico-philia
I was rather upset when a teacher recently revealed her distaste for me to one of my more intimate friend at school because of my supposed indulgence in flamboyant language. I must accentuate on the notion that language itself cannot be dichotomised into simplicity and complexity. It would be almost trying to bifurcate a human being!
Allow me to try to irradiate the opinion I have put forth.
Language itself, no matter which language, has a palpitating heart in it. In the course of history, language evolves and that bestowed upon us "morphology". Novelty was usually considered besmirching, however, "slang" and "vernacular" language that sometimes was only perculiar to certain areas became gradually accepted if employed rampantly. The vocabulary of language thus expanded. Then, there was a call for standardization of syntax which then became what we called "grammar".
This is language, truly holistic. The lexicon that is enshrined in the language cannot survive without the other componanents; grammar would mean nothing if there is no vocabulary to work with.
To ably master any language, one would definitely need to understand that.
In the English language, the etymologies of most words are predictable, and thus, my favourite. One could easily comprehend English. I love the English langugae not just because it could be learnt easily. It is a latent passion I am glad to have exhumed. I do not see how wonderful the language is when you interact with only words like "nice" , " bad", "boring" rather than " gorgeous", " atrocious" and " vapid". The beating of the heart can only be heard when you "feel" the language and that involves the use of the purpotedly more advance words.
Help me to keep the language alive. Do not be afraid to treverse into the paths of vocabulary. These words embalmed in our lexicon as a whole will be most ravishing delight when you begin to assuredly experience the essence of the language. Feel the language today!
¶ 5:11 pm
I was rather upset when a teacher recently revealed her distaste for me to one of my more intimate friend at school because of my supposed indulgence in flamboyant language. I must accentuate on the notion that language itself cannot be dichotomised into simplicity and complexity. It would be almost trying to bifurcate a human being!
Allow me to try to irradiate the opinion I have put forth.
Language itself, no matter which language, has a palpitating heart in it. In the course of history, language evolves and that bestowed upon us "morphology". Novelty was usually considered besmirching, however, "slang" and "vernacular" language that sometimes was only perculiar to certain areas became gradually accepted if employed rampantly. The vocabulary of language thus expanded. Then, there was a call for standardization of syntax which then became what we called "grammar".
This is language, truly holistic. The lexicon that is enshrined in the language cannot survive without the other componanents; grammar would mean nothing if there is no vocabulary to work with.
To ably master any language, one would definitely need to understand that.
In the English language, the etymologies of most words are predictable, and thus, my favourite. One could easily comprehend English. I love the English langugae not just because it could be learnt easily. It is a latent passion I am glad to have exhumed. I do not see how wonderful the language is when you interact with only words like "nice" , " bad", "boring" rather than " gorgeous", " atrocious" and " vapid". The beating of the heart can only be heard when you "feel" the language and that involves the use of the purpotedly more advance words.
Help me to keep the language alive. Do not be afraid to treverse into the paths of vocabulary. These words embalmed in our lexicon as a whole will be most ravishing delight when you begin to assuredly experience the essence of the language. Feel the language today!
¶ 5:11 pm
Internecine
I have been perturbed by the avuncular skirmishes caused over my pitiful grandmother. How very preposterous was the plot developing! How very incendiary was the reckless course of action taken by some of my uncles.
As much as I endeavour to empathise with every party in the conflict, the purpose seemed to be completely lost in this struggle.
Brief Summary Of The Story So Far (nebulously to my knowledge):
When Grandpa died of cancer approximately six years ago, Kiang apparently absoconded with the inheritance to the dismay of the other family members, claiming that the patrimony would be the welfare expenses of the wheelchair-bound grandma whom he was supposedly taking care of. Although Kiang was not the primogeniture, he treated himself like one and assured the rest that he would manage the funds judiciously. Most of the family members were rather unahppy about it as there was no due consultation of their opinions before such an arrangement was established.
A maid was hired to help take care of grandma but I would rather think the maid was more of a service to Kiang's family than grandma. I doubted she enjoyed the time spent in the confines of Kiang's house. There was a communication barrier that none of the people in Kiang's house made an effort to shatter. So she sat there, in her wheelchair, staring at the sky, rain, shine, becoming an ornament in the house until the other family members made time to visit. She putrefied, literally, in the prospects of such perpetual loneliness.
Kiang started harping about the encumberance my diabetic grandma was this year and we had no choice but to transfer her to an old folk's home. Yes, she did certainly regain some of her vigour there but unfortunantely, the expenses was too much for the entire family to afford.
Kiang came into the picture again and made a lot of trouble, promulgating the incompetence and the ineffectuality of the family and what's not and what's whatever. I find myself indolent about describing his ill will as much as I am nonplussed by the sudden turn of events...
End Of Brief Summary
Grandma wasn't exactly a very good mother either. She gambled, inordinately and was apathetic about her family. So I guess these issues arose because of the karama she has incurred.
My mom and dad are in brannigan over the issue at home. As the conflict begin to threathen to break my home, I realised I might have to intervene very soon. The question is how should I go about it?
Abandon grandma then. We will see who seeks to help her first. I will be sure I will be amongst the first to succour her predicament. I am not as callous, materialistic and unreasoable as some people, I hope. For now, we could only pray.
cuRRent...jer ¶ 12:29 pm
I have been perturbed by the avuncular skirmishes caused over my pitiful grandmother. How very preposterous was the plot developing! How very incendiary was the reckless course of action taken by some of my uncles.
As much as I endeavour to empathise with every party in the conflict, the purpose seemed to be completely lost in this struggle.
Brief Summary Of The Story So Far (nebulously to my knowledge):
When Grandpa died of cancer approximately six years ago, Kiang apparently absoconded with the inheritance to the dismay of the other family members, claiming that the patrimony would be the welfare expenses of the wheelchair-bound grandma whom he was supposedly taking care of. Although Kiang was not the primogeniture, he treated himself like one and assured the rest that he would manage the funds judiciously. Most of the family members were rather unahppy about it as there was no due consultation of their opinions before such an arrangement was established.
A maid was hired to help take care of grandma but I would rather think the maid was more of a service to Kiang's family than grandma. I doubted she enjoyed the time spent in the confines of Kiang's house. There was a communication barrier that none of the people in Kiang's house made an effort to shatter. So she sat there, in her wheelchair, staring at the sky, rain, shine, becoming an ornament in the house until the other family members made time to visit. She putrefied, literally, in the prospects of such perpetual loneliness.
Kiang started harping about the encumberance my diabetic grandma was this year and we had no choice but to transfer her to an old folk's home. Yes, she did certainly regain some of her vigour there but unfortunantely, the expenses was too much for the entire family to afford.
Kiang came into the picture again and made a lot of trouble, promulgating the incompetence and the ineffectuality of the family and what's not and what's whatever. I find myself indolent about describing his ill will as much as I am nonplussed by the sudden turn of events...
End Of Brief Summary
Grandma wasn't exactly a very good mother either. She gambled, inordinately and was apathetic about her family. So I guess these issues arose because of the karama she has incurred.
My mom and dad are in brannigan over the issue at home. As the conflict begin to threathen to break my home, I realised I might have to intervene very soon. The question is how should I go about it?
Abandon grandma then. We will see who seeks to help her first. I will be sure I will be amongst the first to succour her predicament. I am not as callous, materialistic and unreasoable as some people, I hope. For now, we could only pray.
cuRRent...jer ¶ 12:29 pm
Thursday, November 06, 2003
Pelagic Fires
Flames scattered in the vast sea,
a melody of replete degrees.
A bell the pelican rings,
the ospreys a song they sing.
The waves collide in a conflagration,
a primal harmony,a tribal concession.
An orchestra coalesces into the moon,
the holocaust eats into a silent room.
A girl, she weeps,
a wraith around it sweeps,
the culmination of the piece,
it idly augurs.
Phlogiston blossomed,
embers dancing,
the rhythm no more ryhmes,
caprice in the paroxysm of light.
Awake from the slumber!
Hark! The vagaries of day!
Harvest the pyre for the song tonight we might,
to fill what little tinders left burning away...
cuRRent...jer
¶ 7:45 pm
Flames scattered in the vast sea,
a melody of replete degrees.
A bell the pelican rings,
the ospreys a song they sing.
The waves collide in a conflagration,
a primal harmony,a tribal concession.
An orchestra coalesces into the moon,
the holocaust eats into a silent room.
A girl, she weeps,
a wraith around it sweeps,
the culmination of the piece,
it idly augurs.
Phlogiston blossomed,
embers dancing,
the rhythm no more ryhmes,
caprice in the paroxysm of light.
Awake from the slumber!
Hark! The vagaries of day!
Harvest the pyre for the song tonight we might,
to fill what little tinders left burning away...
cuRRent...jer
¶ 7:45 pm
Redemption
Inspired By the Gregorian Chant - Tears In Heaven
"I believe in second chances, I believe in pardon, I believe in forgiveness, I believe in redemption. They are keys to peace and healing hands............."It is in pardoning that we are pardoned" Saint Francis of Assisi""cuRRent...jer
I was absorbed into a reverie of abstract understanding when I heard the chant. There was the resonance of gratitude. The intonation in the mystifying celtic beats that resembles so much like an embrace. The rush of redemption seems to unravel my mind.
This post will not be completed.
Bona fide
cuRRent...jer ¶ 1:24 pm
Inspired By the Gregorian Chant - Tears In Heaven
"I believe in second chances, I believe in pardon, I believe in forgiveness, I believe in redemption. They are keys to peace and healing hands............."It is in pardoning that we are pardoned" Saint Francis of Assisi""cuRRent...jer
I was absorbed into a reverie of abstract understanding when I heard the chant. There was the resonance of gratitude. The intonation in the mystifying celtic beats that resembles so much like an embrace. The rush of redemption seems to unravel my mind.
This post will not be completed.
Bona fide
cuRRent...jer ¶ 1:24 pm
Sunday, November 02, 2003
Peace Be With You
"...they know not what they do... "Jesus Christ
I have been recently precipitated into some profound rumination.
I realised contempt mutated me into some unimaginably censorious male-version of a shrew. How I was so very fond of subjecting people to my rancourous lampoons. How I was so eager to confute that loquacious dimwit in front of me in the most noxious manner. I have became utterly...the antithesis of a healer.
Is it not the school? Or rather, the demented and sanctimonious personalities in the school? Or perhaps, the sun, the wind or the weather? Or did I not want to acknowledge I am still very much depressed? Or whatever...Or is it that I never could learn to embrace myself truly, thus engendering the scorn? I will never be part of this school. Then why in the world did I leave SJI?
I fear. I loathe. The prospects of returning to school next year. The sudden chill. The perplexed stab in my gut. It eviscerates me absolutely. The people I have to abide with. It is a terror, immensely stark.
What can I do? Do I persist in praying for peace for them and try to refrain from my obloquy. Will I ever be able to contain my jeremiade? Could I ever be like Jesus who pardoned people's trangressions because he attributed it to ignorance? Could I really sincerely say "Peace Be With You" to them?
cuRRent...jer ¶ 10:16 pm
"...they know not what they do... "Jesus Christ
I have been recently precipitated into some profound rumination.
I realised contempt mutated me into some unimaginably censorious male-version of a shrew. How I was so very fond of subjecting people to my rancourous lampoons. How I was so eager to confute that loquacious dimwit in front of me in the most noxious manner. I have became utterly...the antithesis of a healer.
Is it not the school? Or rather, the demented and sanctimonious personalities in the school? Or perhaps, the sun, the wind or the weather? Or did I not want to acknowledge I am still very much depressed? Or whatever...Or is it that I never could learn to embrace myself truly, thus engendering the scorn? I will never be part of this school. Then why in the world did I leave SJI?
I fear. I loathe. The prospects of returning to school next year. The sudden chill. The perplexed stab in my gut. It eviscerates me absolutely. The people I have to abide with. It is a terror, immensely stark.
What can I do? Do I persist in praying for peace for them and try to refrain from my obloquy. Will I ever be able to contain my jeremiade? Could I ever be like Jesus who pardoned people's trangressions because he attributed it to ignorance? Could I really sincerely say "Peace Be With You" to them?
cuRRent...jer ¶ 10:16 pm
