Inspiration...Sadness...and whatever life takes
Monday, February 23, 2004
 
Nuances

As some might have noticed, my writing style is somehow going through some changes. In the course of the next few months, its gonna be<<(see this?) more relaxed, more truthful and definitely more fun. The poetry is self-composed if that answers anyone's questions. I will try to maintain a certain level of abstractness and profoundity not amounting to any extreme mundaness while all the while refraining from much profanities if possible. The comming months will be hard on me as I struggle with a life that will be afflicted with constant anxiety and the abstruse WHY do I study philosophy. And of course, I will take a deeper look into human relations for the next few entries.

There will also be a few essays I will write about my current literature text "King Of The Casle" so my readers who actually are analysing this text may refer to it as a reference papaer by their peer. I will try to dimminish the standards of English in those essays so they might be more intelligible.

Well....stay tuned



cuRRent...jer
 
 
Where

Where? Where do I go from here?
The question. The answer ostensibly very elusive.
Where could I go? Where can I go?

Encumberments littered along my way,
the quiet susurrus of the branches that hold me up night and day,
mercilessly dealing the tension in my head,
silently sealing my fate.

My choices are fickle,
the doors open to yet another with fragrant dancing lacquer,
where could I go?
Where should I go?

Where would the quietude come upon?
Where would trigonometry and Hitler cease to exist?
Where would I find the place I desire to go?
Where...?


 
Saturday, February 21, 2004
 
Sometimes

"It has been three years, maybe longer. I have been acquainted with the most outre, the most affectionate, the most kind, the most gentle, the biggest, the smallest, the baddest, all online. 3 years might not be long but its somewhat a cognitive experience to actually be with them, to get to know them. They are the world, my world and I love them for whoever they are, no matter how lustful, how unhinged their fettishes or whatever that my words cannot describe. And there are, sometimes, the people who hurt me..who hurt you...should I continue to love them? Bro mike once said that the people who will hurt you the most are your loved ones...not your enemies. Sometimes, or maybe all the time, its kinda true." cuRRent...jer

Sometimes people change.

Clement weather prognosticate not,
the gale that sweeps across the forest of canes,
the silence that ensues.

Sometimes people change. Yes they do.

A song sung to rot,
the friend lost in the fame,
the sand in the eyes of a fool.

Sometimes people change. Yes they do.

A resort.
Perhaps. Seemingly Tamed.
Yea. What to do?

Sometimes people change. Yes they do.

Not what used to be,
the stars a few metres off,
there I end my story on the sky so very high. They change.

Look! The stars are still hanging on the sky!
How beautiful!
How pathetically beautiful....

Lovers. Friends. Enemies. Family. Friends becomes enemies. Enemies become lovers. Family become friends. The betray. They love. They like. They loathe. We call them by lovers. We call them enemies. We call them so many names. But underneath and glazed on the sky, still very human...

cuRRent...jer






 
Saturday, February 14, 2004
 
Helpless

I returned from school on friday, deeply bewildered by the absolute conservativeness potrayed by some of the students. BLOODY HELL( I suppose tis will be the last time I inserted imprecatory syllabes into my blog) COULD THEY NOT JUST GROW UP!! NOT EVERYTHING ABOUT SEX IS PERVERTED> HAVE THEY EVER HEARD OF BLOODY PROCREATION!? TIS IS WHAT WE HAVE OUR MORONIC VAGINAS AND OUR PHALLIC PENNIS-ES FOR! FOR ONCE...VIEW IT IN A BLOODY POSITIVE LIGHT! THEY ASININE SODS!

n' FAG OFF FOR THOSE PEOPLE WHO CONTINUE TO IMPUGN ON MY POINT OF VIEWS. WHAT THE FUCK WRONG IS WITH HUGGING ANOTHER PERSON? OF SHOWING OF AFFECTION? GROW UP YOU GITS. ALOT HAVE HAPPENED SINCE THEIR MINDS WANDERED OFF INTO THE MIDDLE AGES...LIKE THE 21st CENTURY FOR EXAMPLE.

Darn...they have a perverse mindset which just turns me off. Please let this place not become another synagouge.

cuRRent...JeR
 
Monday, February 09, 2004
 
Resolution
 
The Dough, The Earth. The Chocalate Box and The Weight of the World: The Hardest Things to Do

Just some reflections and my completely inane metaphors lately:

cuRRent~ I'm like cookie dough, Jeremy cookie dough. I'm not ready to be eaten yet yea? Eaten by life's pain, eaten by its stress. So, don't eat me yet, please...I have got missing chunks off my shoulder, my legs and thank God life didn't try to bite the sensitive parts. I know, heys, I will get eaten eventually but would you people just stop chewing on me until I come out from the oven? Then again, I guess I will hide in the oven till I get scorched rather than to come out to get bitten all over again. I will wonder how I would taste like to life and to the people of life. Will I be nice? Or will I just be, bitter? I want to taste nice.

cuRRent~ The earth never opens up and swallow you when you want it to. The whims of life kinda sucked lately. You are like pounding on the stupid floor to tell it, "stop sucking me down, you moronic floor" then heys, when you want it to just gobble you up, it dosen't. Get the idea?

cuRRent~ Life is like a box of chocalates. (Forrest Gump) "Heys! Does it carry an expiry date?"- cuRRent...jer

Sometimes you wake up in the morning, you realise you are carrying a box of chocalates. It says on its packaging,"Guess what? You are carrying the weight of the world like everybody does." Thing I figured, weight of the world dosen't mean trying to avert apocalypses, slay vampires or vanquish demons. NOt a holy obligation technically. The weight of the world is to do the hardest thing in this world. The hardest thing to do in this world is to live in it.

cuRRent...jer


 
pale as the white breeze, the eye cannot maketh its crease, the trough, the zennith, the power...it speaks...it reeks...Oh! how it piques my curiosity! how it delves into the nebulous truth of reality, how it

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