Where are you?

I'm there for you,
Always. (Almost.)
You're here for me,
Sometimes. (When?)
You speak, I listen.
I speak- you speak.
I walk around,
Alone.
Texting my sorrows
Away
To long distant ears
Who listen, when I speak.
Where are you,
When I need you?
Where are you,
When I'm the only one here to hold me?
Where are you,
When you don't need me?

Is it unfair of me,

To judge you by my standard?

You are different,

I know.

We are all different.

But where are you,
When I need you?

~Sam

Because I spent half this morning thinking about the tee-shirt you sleep in.

The title is a reference to a song by Birdy, every single word of which is resonating with me right now, which is a situation I'm not too pleased with. Can you please just go away, feelings? This is not working out for me. I need a break. Go away, go party in Hawaii or something. Lust after some hot lifeguard. Just stop feeling so much, god, stop being so aware of him every moment of every day, stop thinking about what he might be doing, stop looking at his facebook profile, the same pictures over and over again, stop thinking about that god-awful smirk of his, stop it, stop it, stop it.
And if you can't stop, at least get some decent writing out of it, what the hell is this crap? Just quote some nice song by someone else, and that's it, you're done expressing yourself? Come up with something original, jeez. Write a bit of angsty poetry. A future classic about the hardships of love, or whatever in the hell this is. Obsession, I think, would be a better description than love. [Would also make a better story.] Love is so different. Right? So much purer. So much less moony, or at least I hope so- unless the mooning is reciprocated, in which case, all is okay. Love has to be reciprocated, right? You can't just fall in love with the twirl of someone's hair, the poise of his hands and feet (did you even know feet could be poised?), the intensity and laughter of his gaze. Can you? Can you be in love with someone who isn't even here, in whose life you don't even feature, except maybe some extra who moved across the screen that one time in that one scene? Can you be in love with someone who exists more in your mind than in your life?
Oh shut up, you aren't in love with him. A week of vacation, when your mind isn't desperately trying to get away from thinking about work and other things actually relevant to your life, and you'll be over him like a frog over a puddle.
At least I hope you will. Don't fall into that puddle, frog. Don't let the pretty shimmering entice you into it. That light is deceptive. That puddle is not good for you. Jump over it, and hop away as fast as you can. Or better yet- jump over it, and forget it ever existed in the first place.
Is this writing good enough to make up for all of the feelings? I certainly hope so, because it's all I got right now.

I shall stop talking to myself now.
Goodnight folks. (Ha, like I'm sleeping.)

Love or whatever,
~Sam

PS: This is our 300th post! Yay! 

For Ishanicat and Sakhzi

Reposting this because some of my friends need happiness in their lives and I'm hoping some of my favourites are general enough to make anyone happy. Also hoping that words referring to happy things are enough to make people happy and remind them of the beauty of life and all that jazz.


A few of my favourite things.

Pens that work. Unexpected hugs. A smile from a stranger. A satisfying article. A job well done. Orange juice. A hot choco-lava cake. Soft, warm cookies. Unexpected compliments. Any compliments! The scent of a bakery, the fragrance of impending rain and wet soil. Knowing things. Stumbling upon the perfect word to describe something, as opposed to having it on the tip of your tongue and not being able to remember it. When you vaguely wish for something, and it just happens. When the perfect song to match your mood starts playing. Good food. Chocolate food. Coconut biscuits. Pretty pictures and scenes. A fun holiday. A few hours with friends. Watching a child completely absorbed in doing some inconsequential thing. Pleasant surprises. A productive day. A day just spent lazing around. Catching up with old friends. A good, stimulating debate or conversation. Your favorite show coming on TV, just as your boredom peaks. A funny ad. Celebration. Pretty lights on houses. Presents! Palm trees and beaches, not necessarily in the same place. Discovering a new song, artiste, sitcom or book. Writing, reading, talking and listening. A happy story. Shopping, and stumbling across a pretty bag, or a hair clip, or the perfect outfit. When the sun is setting behind the blue curtains of my blue room and imparts that warm, dim glow. Being awake when no one else is. Peace. Neat work; a tidy, organized room. Rediscovering a favorite toy from your childhood that you'd forgotten all about. Making lists. A beautiful morning, welcome with a hot cup. Smiles and laughs and wit and humor and a pinch of sarcasm. Being surrounded by the people I love, when I love them. A banana split sundae. Toast with butter and jam. A slice of bread slathered with nutella. Biscuits soaked in tea. A hot, steaming cup of thick hot chocolate. Caramelized apples. Any apples! The smell of coffee and rain and flowers and sunshine. Pretty boquets with liles and orchids and little white and yellow rosebuds with dewdrops on them. An overflowing fruit basket, filled to the brim with mangoes and apples and bananas and oranges and strawberries and cherries and blueberries whatnot. Strawberries and cream and chocolate! Blueberry muffins. Being dressed up all prettily, with my hair done and my heels on and my dress just right. Losing a pound (or two). Setting a new high score. Opening my eyes in the morning with a smile on my face. Closing my eyes at night with a smile. A nice, long, hot bath, complete with scented candles and bubbles. Shutting my eyes and imagining and hoping and wishing and dreaming and fantasizing. Finding that thing, or a friend texting, just when you need it most. Sitting in a corner, or on a window-seat, and reading that perfect book while it pours outside. Slowly removing the outer layer of MnM's. Long, shapely nails. Making people laugh. Laughing. Melting chocolate in my mouth while the rest of it melts in my hand. Getting wet in the rain, provided my phone is safely dry. The euphoria after a satisfying run. The sun's rays shining on me on a mountain top. Snuggling in my warm bed on a winter morning. Cuddling with my mother. A baby's laugh. A child's innocent laugh. A baby's gurgle. The smell of petrol. Lying flat on my back after a long day. Massages! The color of newly mowed lemon grass, the color of the Australian sky over the Outback. Purple and magenta and crimson and black. Serendipity and Enchantment. Henna on my hands. A trouble-free day. My mom feeding me when I'm sick. Ganging up on my parents with my brother. Finally finishing that huge mound of work. Reminiscing old memories; rediscovering long-forgotten pictures. Raindrops on windows, and drawing on a dusty windscreen. Playing with connector pens. Designing something really pretty. The taste and smell of cinnamon. British accents!

And bluebells.

Walking in that.

~Sam

June, July and August Favorites?????

I'm a horrible person, I know. I've just been so unproductive lately; I have no idea what I'm doing with my time anymore.

1. FOOTBALL- During the months of June and July, Football took over the world. I have watched the 2010 World Cup as well, but I didn't find myself being drawn towards it. However, this time, I established my loyalty to my top teams and supported them till the end. My numero uno team was Brasil, so.....*sighs* yeah, you can imagine how I must have felt when they were eliminated. I can confirm that tears were shed. That match was heart wrenching and organ gutting. I didn't sign up for this emotional torture man. I just wanted to watch a nice sport with hot men who occasionally take their shirts off. If that wasn't enough, just go on and guess who my favorite player was. Go on. Guess. Yup. Neymar. Depressed would be an understatement. I was devastated. I didn't even go to college after that. I couldn't. It was too painful. The good news is, he's A-Okay now and, not only is he back in the game, but he is the captain of the Brasilian team. I am so proud of my boy. I am so in love with him.

2. Neymar- He just deserved his own heading okay. This boy is ruining my life I swear.

3. Italian Food- This should be on my favorites all the time because I can't stop cooking or eating it. I kid you not; I can eat italian all the time.

4. Outlander- It's a Starz show that's based on a novel by Diana Gabaldon. It's basically a historical fiction and fantasy series following Claire, a nurse during World War II who travels back to 18th century Scotland. You can have high expectations knowing that it is a Starz show. If you haven't watched any shows that air on Starz, I highly recommend this and Da Vinci's Demons.

5. Anime- I've watched a lot so I think I'm just going to review it on another post.

That's all for the past few months.

This is Malko saying
Maytheforcebewithyou

Songs belong to their listeners.

You know what I really like about books and paintings and art in general, but music in particular (because I just thought of this because of Wake Me Up When September Ends)? A lot of the times, you go through a lot of emotional trauma to write that one song, whether it's about a loved one passing away or a break-up or depression or even how pretty the sky is (maybe that one isn't so emotionally traumatizing). But once that song/book/whatever is out there, it creates so many new memories for so many new people. It's completely out of your hands, the effect your art has once it's out in the world. It's a little like what John Green says about books: they belong to their readers, and once it's out, the authors have no more authority over it than the readers do. They'll interpret it on their own; they'll imagine their own futures for characters after the end of the book. But also- they'll have their own story with the book, how it spoke to them and the memories it created, the feelings it evoked.  Something that grew out of an awful experience for you might give strength to someone else, or might just be a happy karaoke memory, or background work music. Or something which you wrote on the happiest day of your life might be the song playing when a listener gets bad news. It's just weird how every single person who comes in contact with art, including the creator, has her own particular relationship with it.


~Sam

A Walk on the Terrace

You stand still as the sky moves around you,
Each dark leaf silhouetted in the midnight orange-blue.
The wind and the crickets take turns speaking to you,
Can this too be law school?

Hugging yourself, fluttering against the breeze,
On a square of terrace on one of many clustered orange buildings.
You're barely discernible from the darkness-
Only a pair of shining eyes, reflecting stars unseen.
You can feel the sky, the wind, the slow spinning of the earth,
As the clouds are shepherded by above.
A forest of trees surrounds you, protects you, beckons you.
You're alone in the world-
It's only you, and your story and adventure,
Waiting to unfold.

You stand still as the sky moves around you,
Each dark leaf silhouetted in the orange-blue.
The wind and the crickets take turns speaking to you,
And you realize- this too is law school.

~Sam