RETRACTABLE EARS!

So I was brushing a friend's hair today, and we were discussing how ears always get in the way of combing and brushing. And then it struck me. What I wanted more than anything else in the world [at that particular moment]: Retractable ears.
Think about it. They would be so useful!
Getting a haircut?
Your hair brushed?
Yelled at by your mom/teacher/boss/random person on the road/stupid car driver?
Just retract them in, and you're free of all noise and hindrance!
THIS is the next step of evolution.

~Sam

When you're on Goodreads and you want to read EVERYTHING.

It's been a while since I read. I'm so ashamed of myself, I'm torturing myself with everything I don't have time to read on Goodreads.

~Sam

Moods

I want to go and sit by the sea by myself for a couple of hours, and watch it wash things away.
I want to be alone.
I want to be able to think and organize my life.
I want to have time to do all that.
I want to have the sea here, the sound of the ocean, the feel of the wet, packed sand.

~Sam

The Need-Dislike Ratio

There is a need-dislike ratio that exists in all of our brains. It's something like this:
How much you like someone, determines how much you're willing to do when they need you.
Alternatively, how much you're willing to ask of a person also depends on how much you like them.
Hence, if you absolutely, jaw-droppingly, ground-breakingly adore someone, then you'll be there for them at 6 in the am when you haven't slept all night and you're in a different city and your brain is numb and your body isn't functioning, because that's just what you think they deserve.
And if you don't like them, well that extra five minutes of sleep goes back to being the most precious thing in the world. Similarly, you'd depend on someone in the first situation; in the second, you'd rather starve than ask for a crumb.

I don't know what the point of this post is. It's late and I should sleep.

~Sam

Isolated Togetherness

Of the claustrophobic part of life, of living together day in and day out in one space with all your friends and not-friends, stuck together, separated from the rest of the universe, caged in your little bubble.

We stand together,

In isolated togetherness.

See each other,

Day in, day out,

In isolated togetherness.

No one around for miles and miles,

But you and I and them,
Them and their pretend smiles,

In isolated togetherness.

We live together, eat together; breathe together, sleep together.

We can’t get away, can’t get away,

From this enforced togetherness. 

~Sam

Because I'm leaving on a jetplane.

Today I bid goodbye to my house. I should really say home, because it's the closest thing to a physical manifestation of home that will ever exist for me, and I know that home is where the heart is, but a part of my heart is forever there, and it's going to get buried there, dammit, it's going to get buried there in the very earth when they tear it down.
And I walked through every room and relived every memory, good, bad and horrible and it hurts, god it hurts so much.
And I've left it so many times to go to so many places, so many cities, so many countries, so many continents, for days, weeks, months, years and I never thought twice about it because I always knew I was coming back.
And now I'm not coming back.
And I drove down the road that led to home knowing that it won't ever, ever lead to home again.
And now I'm looking out the window, to the strains of Janis Joplin, feeling every word, watching the city, my city go by for the last time for a long, long time.
And I know it'll be changed when I come back again. It's already changing. And it will all be different. Not mine, but always mine.
And I don't know whether to laugh or cry that the song that's been playing all day, that's been stuck in my head all day, is "The Man Who Cannot Be Moved". Because I'm not a man, and I clearly can't not be moved, but how I wish that title applied to me right now. How I wish I was not moving.
'cause I'm moving.
~Sam

Venting

This whole stereotype that the fat girl who is never seen eating is dieting.

Pisses.

Me.

Off.

It doesn’t matter if it’s true in a given scenario. Why is that conclusion the first to be jumped to anyway? Why is any conclusion jumped to? Why can’t we just shut up and accept the explanation given to us-and if we don’t accept it, keep our goddamned stupid opinions to ourselves? 

More on stereotypes, we do tend to stereotype a lot, don’t we? I learned this the relatively hard way, when one of my closest friends told me she thought I was an arrogant nerd the first time she saw me, and another now-close friend admitted she thought I was a scary bitch. I laughed (duh-me, scary or bitchy, really?) but when you think about it…I wonder how many of the stereotypes I’ve created in my head, intentionally or not, have been as wrong as theirs were.

Revelling in her scary-bitchiness,

~Sam. 

Dark and Light

She asks me what the thin line between dream and nightmare is called.
Reality, I say.
Perspective, she believes.
I don't understand her, nor does she understand me.


I still think it's reality that straddles that line, teetering on each side by turn. Or not by turn, it seems to lean towards one for extended periods of time, then the other, always favouring one side more than the other.
And you always know that it's going to teeter right away from the dream as soon as it gets there. That the darkness is going to return, eventually. Soon.

~Sam

Update: March 20, 2013. I now understand a little more of what she meant. Perspective makes just as much sense as reality to me, now. Because it really is just perspective which differentiates dream and nightmare. And it really is just reality which teeters on teeters on that line, going one way and another. 

Storm Side Effects

It's cold and rainy and wet and muddy and deserted and it's boyfriend weather and I have no boyfriend and I've ruined two pairs of jeans in as many days and now I'll have to do laundry. Waah.

There are a few good things though:
-The normal winter joy of being cuddled up in blankets and bed with hot buns and hotter soup.
-The fact that the few people I see are all dressed in black hoodies so it looks like a town populated by ninjas.
-The prospect of the beauty after all this is over.
-The fact that someone down the corridor is playing the piano and singing beautifully to Someone Like You, which totally complements the atmosphere right now. I love live music, especially in a situation like this.

~Sam