Impossible mission for systematization to be wrung out of entropy

Which lame excuse I exclaimed,
when my dear old mom asked
rather told me in her scolding voice
to tidy up my bedroom,
cuz this son of a gun
intuited neatening (organizing)
one infinitesimal corner of the cosmos,
(a veritable pinpoint of nothingness -
our house at blank address)
hence an excellent reason
as lamely iterated above
not to straighten up
my sleeping quarters,
or... rather lesser portion
of bedroom yours truly
then shared with my younger sister,
when writer of these words
just a diminutive lad,
who wished and envied himself

to be the diminutive little boy
(analogous to Jack Wild in Oliver)
at Baker Park day camp

named Stuart (or spelled Stewart) Gillett.

I did literally shortchange
natural born propensity
to witness maximum development
of body, mind, and spirit
when psyche whipsawed
by the vagaries of social anxiety,
panic attacks,
and obsessive compulsive disorder
(psychological maladies shortlisted
to spare the reader his/her tolerance
to endure umpteenth regurgitation
of boyhood, adolescent
and emerging adult mental health ills)
attempting to stave off bidding adieu
to a childhood's end mourned,
no matter fictitiously envisioned
formative years idyll reveries
analogous to present prevarication
being a Norwegian bachelor farmer
in Lake Woebegone,
where cessation of degradation
courtesy intubation, supported jollification
think (Potemkin Village)
bolstering façade and charade
of a faux gone existence.

Hypothetical arbitrary
definition of methodization
exemplified by eldest sister
(when as an an ace student
during convincingly

feigned rapt chores,
where the order of the day
pitted shushed obedient kids
subjected to elementary
my dear Watson pedagogical blather),
nevertheless she displayed
immaculate artistic renderings
courtesy the device
used during every grade
whether at primary,
junior and senior high school
to project images onto a screen,
where a teacher
would place transparent sheets
with written information,
called an overhead projector.

These projectors often referred to as OPs,
according to an article
on Larry Cuban's blog.

They were also sometimes

informally called a "Belshazzar".

Since the universe

abhorred the apotheosis

of parochial law and order

as epitomized
by aforementioned eldest sibling's

buzzfeeding with extremely

neat and groovy note-taking,

and hence succeeded
as a straight A student
completing dozen

dirty deeds done dirt cheap
thru first to twelfth grade

with flying colors,

who as a nature lover to boot

shunned killing live specimens

from a young age

and ingeniously fantastic star student

got the lion's share

born sympathetic and empathetic

toward all creatures great and small,

(whose insect collection project

assignment for seventh grade -

where she pinned
dead critters to styrofoam board
and accompanied with drawings
with her exquisite left hand
validated her artistic penchant
that southpaws gifted
with predilection toward phenomenal
exact printing and drawing
preceding me by approximately
thirteen plus months prior
to my scrawny debut
in the webbed wide world,
where yours truly ranked

as most convenient scapegoat

where utter chaos reigned supreme

as evidenced and exemplified

by illegible chicken scratch

and deplorable messiness

to assigned hurt locker of mine.