Space Filling VIII

It's so funny. As New Year's gets closer and closer, your declarations get grander and grander.
Like, I'm not going to watch TV again this year. I'm not going to eat again this year. I'm not going to breathe again this year.

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Okay I got used to Space Filling and now I have nothing substantial to say for the big two-oh-oh so I'll just keep rambling here.
Rambling should be a good way to herald in the new year. Maybe I can ramble through that.

Instead of rambling, I should have just kept a diary of what I did tonight.
Though there wouldn't be much to say. All I did was:
-avoid social pressure to attend a party of any sort, along with a friend of mine who, for clarity's sake shall be referred to as Vowel-less
-watch a part of The Notebook and drool over Ryan Gosling [despite his total creepiness in the beginning when he tries to get whatshername to date him]
-go get the Chinese delivery
-hog on Chinese food
-initiate facebook conversation with Random Person I
-chatter like I've known him forever and be my usual happy high self
-get pissed off at Stupid Comment
-make sarcastic comments about Random Person I's intelligence, and lack thereof
-initiate conversation with Random Person II, who is also Scary MetalHead Weed Guy, in a group conversation so I don't have to face him alone
-regret the decision
-regret the decision
-get bored
-regret the decision
-blog
-blog
-blog
-blog
-blog
-blog
-regret the decision
-answer blog comments
-blog
-turn into Grouchy Grinch five seconds before the New Year
I EVEN FORGOT TO UPDATE MY STATUS TO "I WILL NOT BREATHE AGAIN THIS YEAR". No fair. :/


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WHATEVER EITHER WAY THIS IS THE 199TH POST PEOPLE!
I hope all of them weren't as lame and pointless as the last few, though I'm quite sure a lot of them have been.

OHMYGOD 200 POSTS ALREADY THIS HAS ALL GONE BY TOO FAST STOP STOP STOP.
THERE ARE TOO MANY FEELS I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY I CAN'T ARGHIHASJKDFSA;HF.

HAPPY NEW YEAR PEOPLE! I hope it's awesome and no one wishes they were dead.

~Sam

Space Filling VII

So I'm spending New Year's Eve initiating conversations with random people on my facebook list.
One went well, except for an awkward part in between where the person was an idiot.
The other has been absolutely awkward so far. Let's see how it proceeds.

~Sam

Space Filling VI

I'll probably run out of things to say in the actual 200th post now.
I already have nothing to say.
Gah.

~Sam

Space Filling V

It was the fourth one.
I can keep count, yay!

Space Filling IV

This is the fourth one, right?
Can't even count any more.
IT'S NEW YEAR'S EVE AND THIS IS THE FIRST TIME IN A YEAR THAT I'VE FELT SLEEPY BEFORE 2 AM, LIKE REALLY, BRAIN?

~Sam

Space Filling III

Hi!
How was your New Year's? No, I'm not filling up space, I actually care. Honest!

~Sam

Space Filling II

I am clearly not as talented at filling up space as I thought.
Meh.


~Sam

Space-Filling I

It's New Year's Eve and I have 9 posts to finish before I can reach my 200 dream.
All my friends are out partying. I'm just sitting here, studiously avoiding drunk people and their puke, and sane people and their chatter. I was perfectly fine until two minutes ago when I was reading (for the first time in over a month, oh the travesty, but at least I reclaimed my reading love), but then my book ended and now...
Now I'm sitting and staring at my laptop screen as the last hours of a year of my life tick by.

~Sam

The Niceness Code

Apparently, I'm a nice person.
Here's a Code to help other people on their mission to be nice (and to help me on my mission to have 200 posts by the end of this year).

The Niceness Code
Article 1: Don't Be Not Nice.
Article 2: Be Nice.

The End.
PS: Don't judge. To each his own is the motto of the Nice One.

~Sam

PPS: Don't forget to read the very very important post right below this!

Important Blogger-y Blog Notice

Hey. We're considering changing our URL, probably to something a little more thought-out, modest and mature. If you guys have any thoughts on the matter, or don't want us to, do comment.



~Sam and Malko 

I am a Poem.

I am a Poem.
I am whatever my writer wants me to be;
Whether it is about blue skies  or battle fields.
Whether its is pain, joy or a journey.
Whether it is love, war or peace.
I am whatever my writer wants me to be.
I am a reflection of thoughts,
made up of words and letters.
I am figments of imagination.
I am feelings.
I am rage.
I am vents.
I am thoughts.
I am whatever my writer wants me to be.
I am a Poem.

I just can't

The worst thing is not that the apocalypse hasn't happened.
The worst thing is the sheer number of people that want it to happen.

~Sam

End

End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. Typing this out is strangely therapeutic.End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. Okay I've succumbed to copying and pasting now.End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. Please just End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. Why won't you just End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End. End.


~End

Clules Stewart Pattinson

By Twilight logic, Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart's child should be called Clules [Claire+Jules]. Yes, I stalked them to find out their mothers' names. Yes, I have a lot of work to do and so have been procrastinating for the last two and a half hours.]

Or maybe Juaire.


Clules Stewart Pattison would be an interesting person, I think.
Clues Stewart Pattinson, which is what I initially thought the name was, would be even better.



Why do we already have a Kristen Stewart label? =/
Oh right. That post about her cheating.


This sudden spate of posts has nothing to do with my plan to post our 200th post on New Year's. Nothing at all.


~Sam

Love transcends the 'buts'.

~Sam

I spend an unhealthy amount of time with my new best friend, the Night Out [called in some circles as the All Nighter].

There is a routine to the night-out.
First, until 10 or so, is the urge to procrastinate, to distract oneself with every possible distraction.
Then, from post-12 until early morning, there is the frantic spurt of work.
Then the exhilaration at how much you've completed, adulterated with periodic or constant waves of exhaustion.
Then the calm doing of work, the energy having run dry. From a sprint to a stroll.
Then the completion of the work.
Then the inability to sleep because your body has learned better than to expect sleep by now.

And then finally, sweet slumber.


~Sam

Nostalgia

Facebook is such an effortless scrapbook, no? It shows so well how the present turns to the past, and the past turns to memories, so ephemeral, so seamless. And the parts of our life that are on there are so happy, so joyous. It's like it just takes your real life and distills all the crap and and the stress and the tension and the ugliness, so that all you're left with is well-framed happiness and laughter and hugs. And joy. Plain, simple, posed smiles. With a few glimpses of real happiness, which just adds luster and depth to the whole thing.


I wish I could relive the past year, as facebok sees and shows it.

~Sam

I yearn for the liberty to make mistakes.

~Sam

The Required End of the World Post

Maybe, if the world doesn't look like it's going to end next week, we should all start playing and singing Friday all over the world, at the same time, and sort of push it over the brink so that it finally collapses and implodes and takes us all away.



Also, the world is ending on a Friday. How utterly sad is that? One less weekend for my life.

~Sam

One of these do not fit here.

So I read this article in the Washington Post about women who changed the world in 2012. (It's that time of the year again! :o)
And there's Angela Merkel and Hilary Clinton and Aung San and this Taliban opposing girl who got shot and this 16 year old African American gymnast...and Taylor Swift.
I try not to be judgmental, and I don't even dislike her music or anything, but seriously?

~Sam

Problems.

You know those problems, those little discomforts and disabilities and limitations that you didnt even know existed until they're fixed? Like, I dont think it occurred to anyone that it was such a bad thing not to be able to contact someone on the move, before the cell phone was invented. Or how long it took to go from A to B, before the wheel, car, train and airplane. Or, like the immediate cause of this post, just how bloody annoying it was to scroll up and down whatsapp without the new update. And even if someone did think of it, it was never a problem, it was just another fact of life something you accepted. The sky is blue. I cannot remind mom to bring me chocolate on her way back after she leaves. Never gave a second thought to it.
I wish all of life's problems could be like that. Unnoticed until resolved.

~Sam

Look at the stars, look how they shine for you.

I wish I could be that star. The one shining, or the obscure one maybe, I don't care. The one people looked up to and saw shining bright, looking down at them, far away and blinking. The distant beauty. Or the one that they didn't really notice, the one even farther away from it all, the one that didn't even care to be noticed, just chilling by itself, just present in the background. The wallflower star.

~Sam

The tragedy of adulthood.

"...only a few days separate their meeting and their deaths. We can see the play, then, as a tragedy about time, and how little there is of it, and also about youth, how we assign passionate importance to things and people when we're young because we don't have the breath of experience to behave more moderately-which is maybe the tragedy of adulthood."

"As Harry Granville Parker puts it, Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy of youth as youth sees it. If you're young or have ever been young you know what it's like to be pulled in many different directions as you try to discern whether feelings that are brand new to you are more like flashes of lightening or an eternal ocean. And you know what it's like to live fully and fearlessly and maybe even a little foolishly and the occasionally tragic thing is that you are just grown up enough for that kind of thinking to get you killed."

"But the universe will not bend to them, or to anyone. No matter how real your love, you can't avoid fate, and you can't alter time..Romeo and Juliet's hubris in believing they can change the world leads to their demise."
-John Green, on Romeo and Juliet.



Why does every word out of the man's mouth ring so true to me?
Both Shakespeare and John Green.

~Sam

The post-work peace.

It's 3:30 am (or was, anyway, when I wrote this, except my stupid phone refused to publish the post). The stars are beautiful tonight. I just finished a bunch (or whatever it's called) of work, and I have three days until the next bunch of work begins.

I've decided I like having nailpolish on my toenails. 

I've also decided that I like long, long-due showers.

Goodnight stars.

~Sam

Science-y Stuff.

So I had absolutely NO inspiration to write. I didn't want to end up posting rubbish for you guys.
I finally have something to talk about. I was watching a video about one of Saturn's moons called Titan. So far, Titan is the only heavenly body(apart from the planet we live in) that has earth-like characteristics. I'm not saying it's an alternative if our planet ceases to exist, because if we all moved to Titan, we would clearly not survive. Although Titan consists of gases like Nitrogen , Methane and Ethane, that are commonly found on earth, the conditions aren't very optimum. So in case we moved there, one of these two theories would occur:
1)Since I believe in evolution and that human beings are capable of adapting to their surroundings, our bodies would probably morph to suit Titan's atmosphere.
2) We'd drop like flies.

It's strange isn't it? There are a number of heavenly bodies in the Milky Way galaxy and even after years of research, there isn't any evident proof of life. It throws your thoughts into a limbo...

Finally a proper Star Wars related post in which the following sentence makes sense;
Maytheforcebewithyou.

Sleeping Beauty

Sometimes you wake up and you just know that you've been asleep for long-longer than you'd imagined, longer than you'd wanted. When I opened my eyes, it felt like aeons had passed.

In a little while, I was to find that they had.



-----
I feel like writing a story. That bit up there came to me after I overslept this afternoon. I think I'd like to continue it, but I don't know where it's going and I don't know if work and my general propensity for caprice and laziness will let me keep it up. The last story I thought of-in 5th grade-is still festering in my head. But maybe revisiting Sleeping Beauty will interest me more than some kiddy story about perfect-girl-turns-princess-marries-hot-guy.


~Sam

December

As of now, my most favorite month of the year is December. Because the weather. And because it's the ending, and the time for reflection and retrospection and introspection and bonding and talking and loving and hugging. And cuddling and warmth and soup and bread. And because it's a sign that we're alive, and things are moving, maybe not where and how we want them to, but moving. And changing. Breathing.

There's just so much to December.

~Sam