Casting Cobble

CASTING COBBLE

Perturbed Pulchritude.

There’s she;
Lie, mortified.
Her body, stinging with shame.
Her cadaverous body, festering in fire.
Writhing in the Debris of; S ha t t er ed
Grace.

Odd Obloquy.

As they;
See, with condescension.
Their throats, lofty lyres
Their poison tongue, salacious serpents.
Expatiating in the superfulity of; GOLIATH’s
Hubris.

Vindicating Vagabond.

Then He;
Stood, Sagacious.
His Body, Benign
His Throat, Truthful
His Tongue, Temerarious
Pinnacle Purity
Simplistic Salvation.

Panegyric Plume.

Cobble He wielded,
Mirrors He unveiled,
Let the destesters dethrone the destested;
And the prostitutes, pour paeans

And such is the wisdom of (The Ineffable)

Aby

The Adulteress (John 8:3-11)

“3And the scribes and Pharisees brought unto him a woman taken in adultery; and when they had set her in the midst,

4They say unto him, Master, this woman was taken in adultery, in the very act.

5Now Moses in the law commanded us, that such should be stoned: but what sayest thou?

6This they said, tempting him, that they might have to accuse him. But Jesus stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the ground, as though he heard them not.

7So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.

8And again he stooped down, and wrote on the ground.

9And they which heard it, being convicted by their own conscience, went out one by one, beginning at the eldest, even unto the last: and Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing in the midst.”

One of the reasons, I stopped doing Christianity, stop talking to God. Is the futility I perceive at a daily basis. I am the type of person who take things seriously. Well, at least Jesus. So when I’m right with God, I really believe in that, and I really really strive (like a dying duck) to be pure and righteous before God. But every morning, as I trudge to class, and I see, fireac people praying, meditating, I involuntarily smile wryly. Then I hate myself for that.

Then I thought, at least this people are trying. And i thought maybe I try to hard.
Anyway, here’s something interesting, this is one of my friend’s msn nickname:

My mom just scolded me.. WtHelll… – CHURCH RETREAT IN 4 WEEKS!!… COUNTING DOWN..

And I pondered the irony of this. And I pondered many other things with it. Till, I sweated a pond, and realised my fan wasn’t switched on.

Vbec

P.S. Theatre Arts today was meaningful. I like the script (:

… SUPER-CALI-FRAGER-LISTIC-ASS-PEE-ALE-DOCIOUS!

ooz that cuteness! baby.

[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OBlgSz8sSM&feature=related]

These kids are oozzing cuteness like buh-lud.
Both are caring brothers anihow.

the ascending descend.

There you sit, as you read this. Now I want you to just stop. Stop the music, the whirring fan. Shut the windows, close the door. And now think.

Because, I can’t do it anymore, not when you’re in the labyrinth of life, where the greatest lust inside all, that draconian beast; He strikes all down before they can stand. And we, in shackles, glare with an incandescent thirst at, all standing hypocrites, they look like they’re standing because they hung themselves on a tree, junoesque, sinewy, behind the dissimulation of Death. We all want to hang ourselves on a tree. Some, forsake their thirst. These are, according to Him, the smart children. But of course it depends on what they turn to. Escape in a rope, that tires their already rotting shell, until lusty flames lick them into oblivion. Please, don’t praise them at their peak, they will fade away tomorrow. Tomorrow, is a day away, many like to think it long, the fools. They blunder in pitch black, rowing in thick, choking seas of sorrows, that tickles their exigent idealism readily, like blasting whores. Dont’ praise them, because then all of us want to be decieved and want to be exulted. Ten thousand victims fall prey to this. The psychic persuasion of the crowd. But who controls the Crowd… Break off at risk of ostracization. Don’t genuflect the pride.

Nevertheless, I want you to, now look around you. The corporeal, the thick treasuries of knowledge, the ceramic heritage of men, wooden tables that sings of the craftmen’s glory and another’s death. And think. Look at the clock, and see the hand wave, again and again at you. Until, This premature good-bye gesture, is due. Feel each second slip away from you. Like a river eroding the body of a fish, in a system of water, that the fish’s foolishness cannot comprehend. It ponders, as if it could understand, why, the green giants fall, and why the sky ripples with downpour. Isn’t Man pondering too? Now, now, don’t worry. The tighter you grasp time, the more electric Regret it releases. Relax. The labour of life is this — Without this, there is no point: To see the big picture.

But all have decided not to. That’s why there’s unrest. each one climbs the ladder, picking apples, not knowing, gravity pulls him closer, with each ascend. He is descending. In Ignorance we bathe, and we immerse. All Human experiences, with the mellowness of wine, becomes poignant. Whether the pragmatism of singaporeans, the fiery passions of the spaniards, the cynicism of the european thinker, the commercial America, the covert lovers, the loving grandmother, the rising young star, the comradely classmates, the mundane office slave, the inspiring cancer survivor, the kind sunday school teacher, the hardened widow, the frightened child, the corporate genius. Oh, they do pause and sigh. At the poignancy of the Human life. But is poignancy good enough an excuse for our existence. You know, pragmatically, this whole litany-bullshit amounts to nothing.

But at least i admit the stupidity of life, keep in mind, the fruitlessness of lame jokes, the carnage of literature’s endless lament on flawed humans, the ineffectual surity of science (can science make us immortal, the big bang theory states that all will collapse once the universe finishes its expansion, all will collapse, the glory of man) clench your fist and walk on, but don’t forget to stop and think. Because it makes you more human, and humans are supposed to think. Good lord, as if it eases the pain…

This is then, in conclusion a self-chastisement, for not thinking. And for entering the ascending descend, and failing even at that.

vbec

p.s. R.I.P Grandpa
p.s.s. bleargh, so much work to do..
p.s.s.s. wasting time, wasting time, wasting time….