Dreams and Butterflies

So Malko called me up the other day with a brilliant idea to change our blog name to "Dreamcatchers". Because we're always hankering after dreams, see? Now I don't know what exactly is happening with that, but my brain being my brain, came up with a metaphor.
Butterflies.
They're so similar to dreams, no?
Unreal. A butterfly fluttered by the other day and I could have sworn it looked animated.
Fragile. Hold on to one too long, or too strong, and it will die right there in your hands.
Much much too hard to catch. Run after them, and run, and run. And every time you come too close, they'll flutter away, just a little farther, and a little more, and a little more.
Capricious. Flower to flower to flower. Dream to dream to dream.
Beautiful. Joyous. Lovely.
And oh-so-necessary for life.

~Sam

There will be a time.

When your eyes will tear up at the slightest provocation.
When your heart will be full, and your home empty, abandoned in favor of more meaningful places.
When every moment will be treasured, grasped at, held on to tightly, never to let go of.
When "I'll miss you" will be the word on every lip.
When fevered promises to stay in touch will be made, everywhere, from everyone, to everyone.
When every song will take you back.
When every memory will be recalled.
When a life will end, and a new one begin.
There will always be a time.
When things will change.


~Sam

Right Here, Right Now.

Currently listening to: I was Walking with the Ghost by Tegan & Sara.

Currently Obsessed with: Under the Bridge by Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Love Will Come Through by Travis.

Current Mood: Ambitious.

Just another apology (and a reblog, sort of).

Yeah, we suck, we're sorry. We have no excuse either, except..did you know, if you reach far enough and fast enough, you can actually see the temple being built around you in Temple Run? =O

Anyway, this is a beautiful poem by a beautiful friend of mine that I came across the other day. One of the best I've ever read. Do feel free to comment if you enjoyed it.



Do you know this feeling? 
When you're sitting in your balcony, 
Watching the first rain,
Alone.
(But not alone.
Not really. 
The whole universe is watching this sight with you.) 
And you are the perfect degree of wetness. 
Just enough for the cool wind blowing,
To feel icy-cold,
Not enough to go inside and write a poem.
And the raindrops dance in these intricate patterns,
And you think of surface tension,
(And perhaps, if you're particularly poetic,
You think of the tension between human beings.)
And you see the lightning,
And you think of love and how ruin is so beautiful,
And you think about how fast the clouds are fleeing,
And you know they are going where you are,
Away.
(But they aren't, really.
They have to go north and you are going south,
Because we all of us can go only to the place,
Where we are meant to be.)
And if your new hair cut can't survive this deluge,
You don't really care,
You sit there anyway.
Because you know that feeling,
Of watching the first rain,
On a June evening,
From your balcony,
Alone,
(But not alone)
And the perfect degree of wetness.


~My dear friend Sakhi. 






~Sam

What we did before our exams.

So Sam and I used to text most ALL the time, irrespective of whether we had the same exam day after or not.
We ended up writing poems/songs a couple of times.
For your amusement, may I present...

January 22nd, 2012, 10:17 p.m.
Me:
It's the night before my commerce exam,
and I sit there staring,
 at a page that I've been staring at for the past hour or so.
The clock keeps ticking, and I keep dreaming,
my concentration is dropping low.


And I am certain that there's something behind the curtain,
no there isn't, I'm just trying to pass my tiiiiime.
Please please please, I don't want to study anymore,
my head belongs on my pillow,
Please make it go away.


I'm writing this song the day before my test,
My oh my I'm such a shameless wreck,
because even with an exam tomorrow I don't feel guilty...


but please please please make it go away!
The torture seems to be here to stay,
but please make it go away. 

January 24th, 2012, 11:20 p.m.
Sam: 
My eyes are glazed over, the words don't make any sense.
To my life, my grades tomorrow don't make any difference.
My concentration's dropping lower, my body's less tense,
so why oh why am i not asleep yet like my oblivious parents?


Me:
I probably should be worried, that I'm not getting tensed.
I'm in a hopeless situation, an unshocking revelation.
It happens all the time.
And even though I'm wasting my time in this songs making,
I know I'll do just fine, I think.


Sam:
Tired appear to be, my drooping eyes call out to sleep.
But I shut the book and lo, I'm suddenly lively as a brook!
To this feeling of despair, nothing else can compare,
nothing except, perhaps finding splits in my hair.


Me:
I'm just rambling now,even my words have gone.
So why oh why cant the textbook be gone too?


Oh this torture I cannot bear.
In a moments time, my hair I will tear.


See I get this feeling in the back of my brain,
telling me to study, but the front part is saying,
that I should text my buddy.


Sam:
And so I let my eyes glaze over, and let my speed become even slower.
I let the clock tick by as the time passes me by.
To the world  flick my finger and to my friend the singer,
I text, 
A Song.






From Sam: And this is why I don't write poetry.