Ideous Games

I started this blog circa 2007 methinks and here I am putting up my first post around 3 years hence. A tad slow I know but hey, better late than never right? I somehow could never get down with the idea of blogging because I could never comprehend that someone would be insane enough to want to read the confessions of a dubious mind such as mine. But then I realised - it's true! nobody would read this and hence, this is much too much like talking to myself (which I in any case do 5 or 6 times a day - very therapeutic) and in this way I atleast have the transcripts saved for posterity should I ever need to make a plea of insanity in a court of law.

So with all that fanfare done away with, I begin my first post - Ideous Games - no it is not a typographical error and no, I am not Eliza Dolittle struggling to say "hideous". I do in fact mean Ideous - nay you may not find it a dictionary (or perhaps you will - I never did bother to check). It is a word that I like to think that I created and it means that which pertains to the Id - the most and raw and basest of Freud's 3 ego states - that with which we feel hunger, thirst and the need for sex. The idea for the verse came to me as I watched "Tom and Jerry" - I kid you not. We find - or atleast I find - that there is a daily struggle between the white fairy on the right shoulder and the red devil on the left and from that struggle was born "Ideous Games".

Morning arrives - the Persian awakes.
Raising her head, the first glance she takes.

Surveying her fiefdom, the treasures it holds.
Owning all by sight, with eyes so cold.

She arches her back, shakes out her limbs
Once ready, sets off to satisfy her whims.

Stalking the land, looking all but contented.
Then she feels a longing - one she'd never intended.

It grows inside - matters not how she tries.
It must be fulfilled - matters not who dies.

A squeak from the corner, music to her ear.
A smile on the Persian, she can sense the fear.

Tensing her limbs, she gets ready to spring,
when all of a sudden, an unthinkable thing.

A strange new feeling - a struggle within
Racks her with guilt and shame at her sin.

A halo descends, her super-self speaks.
She can't be the one to put an end to those squeaks.

Another stirs up, an Ideous grin.
She wants to taste it, she must take it in.

The halo wanes as the battle goes on.
Vanquished by Id - it didn't take very long.

The deed done, self-loathing descends
And there it will stay until this ends.

It tasted so good - but the squeaks remain
to haunt her, she knows she has caused much pain.

Never again, is the vow that she takes.
She knows in life, one does make mistakes.

A lingering doubt washes down with the rain.
She has tasted - wouldn't she want to taste again?