The Quantification of Need

I'm an avid follower of Humans of New York, which is run by this dude called Brandon Stanton in New York. Recently, something Brandon did made me smile more than his page normally does.

A bit of background here: Humans of New York is essentially a photoblog of random people in New York, whom Brandon stops in the streets and speaks to. The pictures are then uploaded with captions which reveal a little bit of their lives: stories which are witty, funny, touching, moving, sweet, sad, and just plain human. It's a great way of showing us that everyone we pass in the street has a life, a story and of bringing people together. The people who comment on these threads are some of the most accepting and amazing people I've found on the internet. ANYWAY little fan outpouring aside, what happened in this instance was that Brandon came across a mother and her son, Rumi, selling cowboy supplies on the pavement, in order to save up for a horse, because "Rumi's biggest dream is to own a horse."

Now most of us, if you guys are anything like me, would just smile at this piece of absolute adorableness, and the hope, and the maternal love, and the general awesomeness reflected in this picture and story and move on.

Not Brandon.

He decided, since owning a horse in New York is a little difficult/expensive, to send Rumi on a Wild West Adventure, and asked followers of his page to donate some money. The goal was $7000. It was raised in 15 minutes. A total of $32, 167 have been raised, and the rest is going to the New York Therapeutic Riding Centre.

Which is all wonderful (SO MINDBLOWINGLY WONDERFUL OH MY GOD I LOVE PEOPLE), but that is not the point of this post.

The point is that some of the people who have commented in places where this story has been reported seem...upset. Because Rumi is not a starving orphan. Because going on a Wild West adventure is not a basic need. Because he has a house and a loving mother and therefore does not deserve to have strangers spend money on him to fulfill his little first world wish.

Excuse me?

I understand that the world is in a bad way. There are people suffering for the food I'm snacking on while typing this post. There are people dying for the most basic amenities. There is, after all, this picture.

But does that mean we cannot help anybody who isn't that far gone?

Must we hunt down the most despairing soul to give our charity to? Must we feel guilty every time we buy a new phone, because someone is dying for lack of a morsel, or every time we help a Rumi instead of a homeless man because his need is less than that of a man on the street? Should I feel bad that the person I helped wasn't as bad off as the next one?

Must need be quantified?

It would be great if the world was a utopian socialist heaven where everyone had all they needed and could get down to the business of wants. It is not. It is probably not going to be. It is not even heading in that direction.

But when we do decide to help somebody, whether it's by driving a kid down to Six Flags and watching her leap for joy, or donating to Greenpeace or Blue Cross, we shouldn't be told that we didn't help the right person.

What does that argument even mean?

That we can't help someone until every person worse off than them has been helped?

That we can't fight for animal rights until the rights of every human have been granted and guaranteed?

That your need/want is not important as long as there are needier people?

Please. Their needs may exist, but so do these. Yes, there are people who need a lot more. Yes, we should help them. Yes, you will get more moral brownie points for helping those people.

But when someone is in front of you, and they need something, and you can help them, you do that. And when someone else does that, you don't diss them for it. People help those they want to help, support the causes they want to. Because even if somebody else has it much worse, that doesn't really change the fact that you have what you have.

~Sam

If only I were capable of managing time.

A poem written out of a conversation between the Christmas Cookie and I.

"Why must sleep and work be so mutually exclusive,
For me?"
"Well, if only you could manage time,
They wouldn't be!"
"If I were to manage time, ha!
I could rid the world of cancer.
Then I would be rich and famous,
Live a life fulfilled and joyous.
Know all the right men and women,
Even my beloved, Hugh Jackman!
And with Hiddelston, the Tom,
Get the Cookie on!
Oh what a life would be mine,
If only I were able to manage time!"

~Sam

Do you remember?

A story-poem-thing.


Do you remember?
The times before you knew to lie.
To keep your mouth smiling shut, your head down.
Before the sounds of screaming and fighting,
Became such a part of your life.

Do you remember?
Being shaken in the middle of the night.
Your brother couldn't witness it alone.
Your mother with a lit match to her clothes,
Your father laughing on the bed in front.

Do you remember?
"Mum!" Reaching out to save her.
The horror dawning in her contorted face,
As she realized what she would have left behind,
Whom she would have left them with.

Do you remember?
The years passing by,
With uneasy smiles and risky lives.
Abandonment and anger,
Misery and regret.

Do you remember?
His hand exploding across your face,
His eyes fastened on yours,
The fear clenching your guts,
His clap thundering around the room.

Do you remember?
Your mother and brother rushing in,
(enough was enough),
The relief in your blood,
The rage rushing through your veins,
While your mouth remained paper dry.

Do you remember?
The screams screaming what you never knew.
The blur of rushing away,
The burn of seeing him again.
The haze of  packing and leaving.

Do you remember?
The post-traumatic peace.
The feeling of love,
And the remnants of hate.
Fear and comfort, rage and relief, smiles and sorrow.

Do you remember?
Floating in a new life,
Lost and unsure,
Safe and unsafe,
Until that decision was made.

That enough, was enough.

~Sam

Another Reblog

This one I just fell in love with, and I wanted to share it because I think we've all felt this way. 

From: http://thatsjusttthewayitis.blogspot.in/

"I remember the four year old kid who asked her father if he could 'please buy a sister' for her from the market. I remember the five year old who screamed at bawled all the while that she was left alone, till her mother was back from Save-on, which was right next door. I remember the six year old who said 'cheese' everytime there a picture being taken just to show off the huge gap in her mouth where her front teeth used to be. I remember the seven year old who believed that infinity people died when the World Trade Centre was knocked down. I remember the eight year old who felt as though supreme, just because she knew multiplication tables long before her class did.
I remember the girl who dreamed of beating the world record for the youngest child to publish a book. I remember the Dad that told his little girl that a doctor was the greatest person in the world, and I remember the little girl who wanted to be the greatest person in the world. 
She was impractical and maybe even a teeny bit stupid. But she believed in herself so much, and usually proved that she deserved to be believed in. When she didn't, she ignored it and began another mission to prove how amazing she could be. 
I wonder what happened to that girl."






~Sam

I hate. (Now without the four letter words)

Warning: The following post is (UPDATE: used to be) filled with profanity, angst, profanity, hatred and profanity. I don't usually condone swearing, or like it, but extreme provocation (read: a pointless exercise conducted in a very pissed-off sun, coupled with stress and PMS) provides for extremely provoked language. Anyway, read at your own discretion and for God's sake don't leave messed up comments for me.


I hate. I hate the sun, the fact that its a frickin hundred degrees outside, the fact that the stupid weather is so stupidly annoying.
I hate people, stupid, empty, meaningless, shallow, superficial people with no consideration for others, who can't even do the  jobs they're paid to do properly.
I hate yelling. I hate having to yell. I hate stupid dumb blank stares with the heat rushing through your veins. I hate blinding red hot rage.I hate that I'm talking like this.
I hate traffic jams and fifteen minute jobs taking one and a  half hours.
I hate the fact that the hot dog and momo stand behind my house shut and went away.
 I hate the fact that people are so hard to read, so hard to trust. I hate that perfect freaks don't exist in my universe.
I hate the internet screwing with me.
I hate prying stranger-acquaintances.
I hate short tempered hormonal women. I hate being a short tempered hormonal woman. I ' hate hormones.
I hate that the stupid drummer next door doesn't realize that there are people living near by who can hear him who have lives which they'd rather live without a constant bang bang bang as background music. I hate the fact that he doesn't even have the courtesy to be freakin' hot if he's going to be drumming away all the time.
I hate work, sleep deprivation, expectations, judgement, all that jazz.
I hate anger and slamming doors and loud voices.
I hate that I have to password protect everything just to get some privacy. (Okay, that's not exactly true, but whatever. UPDATE: That is now true.).
I hate the words "everything is fine". I hate people who ask you how you are when they don't give a damn about anything except their stupid new car or whatever. I hate stupid social conventions.
I hate the fact that people make stuff up in their head about you without knowing a thing about your life. I hate the fact that when you say you're worried they don't understand that you're worried.
"Oh Sam? Yeah, she's fine, just perfect. What does she have to get scared about?" I hate that.
I hate the fact that I'm so unsure of everything. 
I hate the fact that society thinks that women are some fragile little flowers that need to be protected all the frickin' time. I hate the fact that half the people who think that about their women are the ones who go fuck with other women. I hate the stupid, hypocritical world that we live in. I hate that the sunshine and rainbows are so overshadowed by the stress and mud.
I just..hate. And I hate that I hate.

~Sam

Dear Environment People,

Who do you think you're kidding? No, really. You think you can convince us to go out and look for jute bags when we have plastic right in front of us, to give $5 to Greenpeace instead of buying diamonds, to think about 50 years from now instead of tonight?

Dream on.

Have you even thought about what you're dealing with?

We're the race who needs to be threatened with punitive action to follow even the simplest rules-meant to protect our own lives-and even that we don't always do. Why would we care to fulfill voluntary agreements?

We're the race who skips red lights because reaching a meeting in time is more important than the prospective loss of lives of half a dozen people. Why would we care about the consequences of brushing with the tap on?

We're the race who spends more each year on war than on welfare. Why would we try to save?

We're the race who votes people into power and forgets all about the bigger picture for the next 4 years. Why would we take any responsibility on ourselves, when we can foist it off on them?

We're the race who doesn't study until the night before the exam. Why would we think about the long-term?

We're the race who lies, steals, and kills.
We're the race on top of the evolutionary pyramid.
And we're the race who doesn't care.

So stop wasting your breath. It won't make a difference. We all know all the things that are going wrong, whats going to happen-we're all aware enough. We just don't care.

Because who would rather think about the life of their future grandkids than their next date?


~Sam




PS: Because it apparently wasn't obvious enough-the above post is 100% sarcastic. I strongly believe in being eco-friendly and the above post was just me venting about how much people seem to say and how little do.

Also, because I loved the way that the person who commented below phrased this:

"If you say you shouldn't care about the future, and live in the present-blah. Just blah. If you believe that, then why exactly are you studying to build a career? Why do you have insurance? Why do you dream about a perfect guy whom you would meet in the future?
I don't mean to offend. I just want to say-care for others. Stop and look around you once in a while. If everybody says, "Why should I do this," who would actually do it? Do your bit. Don't ignore it. Don't keep taunting nature. It will, one day, get tired.
Just care. You won't lose anything."

Brains are so annoying sometimes.

Well, most of the times.
I mean, really! You think it could, for once, like what its currently doing right? But no. Always, always it makes me want to do things I can't at a particular time, and then when I can, IT WON'T FEEL.
Ugh.
When you want to work, they wander away to fantasize about Hugh Jackman's mouth, and when you're merrily stalking they sneak up behind you and nag you about how much work you need to do. Make up your mind, stupid brain! Why can't you just focus on one thing?! And your ideas have inordinately bad timing. Every single time. The wonderful blog post comes in the shower. The thing you needed to Google you remember when you switch off the laptop. The soap you needed to buy you remember when you're on your way home. Always. Why?


Equally annoying as brains are brothers. I mean, for 364 days of the year they'll act like total jerks and probably ignore your very existence (exaggerating here, but whatever, exaggerating is fun). And then one fine day they'll go out and do something so absolutely brilliant, sweet, beautiful and unexpected that you forgive them completely for the next 364 days of jerk-i-ness. And no, it wasn't my birthday. Which made it even sweeter. They have the right idea. Get your expectations of them so low that you're thankful when they remember to call you once in a while, and then boom, blow them away with a kind act out of nowhere so that you're walking on air. Stupid, useless, smart, caring, lovable idiots. Hunh.


~Sam

Birdies in the sky.

If I ever got a tattoo, I think I'd get one of a bird, simply because they symbolize so much-both as an inspiration, and as a caution. [Update: As of now, my tattoo status is this: Never getting one, because pain, and AIDS, and permanence, and deciding, and ew, but hypothetically, I'd get a trio of a nightingale, a mockingbird, and a bluejay circling on the part where my wrist meets my palm.]

Love. Fragility. Strength. Perseverance. Peace. Determination. Beauty. Sharing. Togetherness. Simplicity. Belief. Innocence. Naivete.

There's just so much to learn from birds. How to overcome, everything. Rebuild, again, and again, and again. Migrate, again, and again, and again. Love, live, lay.  I sat in my garden today and just watched them. There was a little water on the ground, waste water, left over from when the garden had been watered. They'd creep in, in twos or threes, always in pairs-a bird was never alone for long, even if it came down alone. Some would drink, taking a sip and then looking all around, bobbing their little heads, looking out for danger. Some seemed to be bathing, sinking their upper bodies into the water, then shivering violently to get rid of the droplets, and flying away to perch on a tree, preening. Then again, they'd hop down, repeat the same procedure over and over again, four of them, in a little puddle of water, completely ignoring the little birdbath kept near the tree for their leisure.

Until I looked up once and they were gone.

It would be cliched to say I learned so much from that half an hour's experience, and also false, because I didn't learn anything new. Everything which was to be said about birds, has already been said. We've all thought about being them, and they've been the muses of poets for decades.I even have an unfinished post sitting in my own drafts box, entitled "This is me thinking about being a bird."

And yet, this post.


I would want to be a bird, for their freedom, for their togetherness, for their innocence and for their simplicity, everything I mentioned above. I wouldn't want to be a bird, for their life, for their dangers, for every moment fraught with risk, for their misplaced innocence--sit still for long enough, and a bird will fly its way right into your hand, to be crushed, destroyed, or frightened away.

Birds, butterflies-they were not made for this world, like flies were, or humans. And yet they survive, and they show us how to survive. A tiny, tiny little creature, inquisitive, daring, bright, beautiful--showing us the way of life. And, perhaps, its meaning.



~Sam

" When I Grow Older, I Will Be Stronger"

I love how we always have more faith in our future-selves than our present-selves. Like, project due in May? No problem! I'll work my ass off in April, work 18 hours a day and get it done with in a week flat. No need to stress myself out ahout that now. 


Come April, and you wonder what the hell you were thinking, putting so much faith in your abilities.

So you know what K-naan? You won't be stronger. Or harder, or faster, or free-er, or better in any way. You'll be exactly the same, only a little older.
And none the wiser.

~Sam

Hypocrite

They tell you to follow your heart; they tell you to use your head.

They tell you to revel in life; they tell you to think twice. 

They tell you everyone makes mistakes; they scream at every one of yours. 

They tell you to do your best; they scorn if it doesn't make you the best. 

They tell you to dream; they expect you to be realistic. 

They tell you to think big; they tell you you're one small voice. 

They tell you you're free; they shackle you with judgement. 

They tell you to believe.
They teach you to behave. 

~Sam

The Girl-Guy Conundrum

So I promised something good, and this will hopefully live up to that. It's something I think about quite a lot anyway, I'm actually surprised I didn't do a post about it before now. Anyhow, here ya go!



At least once every month-no, make that twice, once for hair removal and once at that time-I hate being a girl. And by hate, I mean hate. Despise, detest from the bottom of my heart. I know guys have their problems too (though I'm not completely sure they have any which can match up to ours-guys reading this, I'd love your perspective on this), but I'm not usually very rational at those particular times, so being a girl seems like the absolute worst thing in the world. Because, come on. We have to deal with periods (or menstruation or chumps or rags or whatever you call it). We have to give birth, which is supposed to be the thing when it comes to pain. We have to wax. We have to "adjust". We have to deal with wolf-whistles and harassment. We have to deal with being the weaker sex. We have it so bad!

Then of course, the time passes and I'm happy with my gender again. We can shop, we can check out hot guys, we can gossip, we can hug people without everyone thinking we're gay! We're allowed to be childish and we don't necessarily have to work our ass of trying to excel in a career. We have emotional depth, we have makeup, we have it awesome!

And so the cycle continues.

When you see a hot guy. When he sees you, talks to you. When you get flirted with, when you feel all shivery and beautiful. When you shop and get a pretty outfit, when you doll up and feel the eyes on you, when you go to a salon and get stuff done-even if it's just a trim, you still come out feeling prettier! When you have amazing sleepovers and bond with friends from deep inside, when you feel safe and protected. Being feminine seems the best thing in the world at times like that.

Then again, a guy doesn't need to worry about looking refined, or being hairless or even remotely hygienic. What makes a girl a tramp makes a guy "manly". What makes a girl a slut makes a guy a Casanova, a player, and ten times hotter for it. You can chill and party all night without worrying about it getting late, or dangerous. You can fight it out with people and move on, no bitchiness, backbiting or bullshit allowed. It wouldn't be expected of you to be able to cook, and if you lent even the slightest hand to any household work you'd be lauded for your effort.  Doesn't seem all that bad a life.

Then again, you think about the 21st century, and their isn't really all that much of a difference between girls and guys anymore, at least in most places. In others of course, being a girl is pretty much hell on earth. But for the most part, we're more defined now by our personality than our gender, and if we don't like it-well, we can always change it. And even though I'll still hate my ovaries next week, I gotta admit-I think I got it good.


~Sam

      Also, people who didn't understand the title because of the font, it says : The Girl-Guy Conundrum.

Its been a long time.

First and foremost, a very happy (very belated) New Year to all of you. I know its been a long time, but I've been busy being sick and trying not to throw up. Stupid food poisoning got to me. And the most unfair thing? I was the only one of the group who actually liked the food. And hence, by the skewed laws of the universe, the only one who got sick. *glowers* Anyway. The new year, so far, has kind of sucked for me, I really hope its going better for you guys. There's been loads of introspection, loads of self-doubt, loads of angst, and through it all, loads of nausea. Sigh. I'm not depressed, but I've been thinking about depression, and...its a scary thing, isn't it? Its not like any other emotion-not like anger, which claws its way through you, and, having imprisoned itself in your heart, tries to claw back out. Its not like happiness, bursting upon you like a ray of sunshine. Ironically enough, the emotion it most seems to resemble-at least in my experience-is joy. [Joy, as I read somewhere, is happiness which does not depend on what happens.] It seeps into you slowly, oh so slowly, so that you don't even realize what is happening, and you go around doing your stuff, losing that bounce in your step, slowing down a little each day, sinking into that quicksand inch by inch without ever realizing it, and all the while the levels are rising, rising, until one day they reach the brink, and you wake up sad. Or, conversely, very, very happy, if you're talking about joy, which I'm not. I think depression is what I'm most afraid of in my life. The impenetrable darkness of it, the isolation. I know if I got depressed no one could help me, because I over think so much that I'd probably counter all the possible reasons they could give me to be un-depressed. Would I be able to think enough to find a reason of my own to be happy? I don't know. Why I'm talking to you about all this? Don't know that either. I just hope I never have to find out the answers.

Love and all.
~Sam

Its funny how precious every moment becomes when you realize they're limited.

Wow. I sound like I just found out I was going to die or something. Well, I didn't. Though I would like to. I mean, I would like to know when would die. Not that I was going to.

Anyway.

 Its weird, but despite everyone knowing that we're going to die some day, death is always unexpected. Its like the elephant in the room. I remember wondering how Brutus could be so calm on hearing of his wife's death in Julius Caesar. I think I understand now, what he meant when he said that by meditating upon her death, i.e., by understanding that one day she would die, he has found it easier to accept her death. No way have I reached that level of maturity yet, to be able practice that, but I do understand now, and I don't find him such a heartless jerk any more, which is an improvement I suppose. I just..I wish we knew when we were going to die. A cancer patient gets a prognosis, but spends her life miserable at the thought of death. If I knew when I was going to die, I wouldn't waste it being unhappy. I would do my best to enjoy what time I had, to live every moment to the fullest. To just live. That's what I meant by the title-at the endings, the farewells, the close of the chapters, the last days, that's when we begin to treasure every moment. Why? Why must we not care about something until its about to run out? I'm not just talking about life here, this goes everything from pie to oil. Why can't we treasure what we do have just as much as what we're about to lose? Why is the girl who plays hard to get more appealing than the best friend? Why are we so stupid? 




I just feel that if we had as much respect for life as we do for death, the world would be a much happier place.


~Sam. 

Urine tests are so misogynistic.

Seriously. I bet a guy designed those. No woman would ever subject her fellow beings to such torment. If God meant us to aim, he would have made us that way, is all I'm saying.

 I'll stop now.

In other news, I'm still sick. Ergo rambling and urine and blood tests. (I am not scared of needles, okay? I just have an completely natural dislike of sharp pointy things poking into important veins. Or was that arteries? Ugh, tenth grade Bio. I knew I should've paid more attention.)

Anyway. What was I saying? Oh yeah. Sick. So much time on my hands. So I decided to fiddle with timeline because fever turns me into a facebook troll and I was getting bored with facebook the way it was right then. And..I liked it! I know Zuckerberg is kind of like a dictator sometimes, shoving all these changes down our throats whether we want them or not, but you gotta admit the man is a genius. Facebook seems new and interesting all over again, just when it was starting to get stale. Stalking yourself is such a novel experience! Though its painful seeing how dumb you were once-but then you again you can also see how not-dumb you (hopefully) are now, which dulls the sting a bit. And it looks so nice, after you've stared at it for five hours! 

...

I'm out of things to say but I don't want to go away. But I'm making a concentrated effort not to make a fool of myself when not absolutely necessary, so I'll sign off now. I leave you with this awesome song, and the advice to ignore the video unless you're one of those self-actualized people with no body issues/have a 23 inch waist-line.

~Sincerely hoping that was coherent, Sam. 

I love.

This is a throwback to this post, which reminded me of all the hate I had in me yesterday, and probably will have in me again tomorrow, but not today. Because today is for peace, and joy, and love.


I love today.

I love being sick. I love having an excuse to do nothing all day, but suddenly having no need for an excuse.

I love lazing around, stretched out on the grass; lying in the sun, soaking in the rays that well-meaning people had thrust upon me, saying that the sun would do me good.

I love chatting easily with old friends and new, having light, laughing conversations and connections, over everything and nothing.

I love reading the perfect book to match the perfect time-reading about a woman getting rid of her boring routine life for one of impulse and fun, just when I was doing the same, albeit in a smaller manner, without the one night stand or identity theft.

I love not having the energy to worry, the necessity to plan, the compulsion to think.

I love feeling floaty and pretty and beautiful, without anything having changed.

I love loving the day, the world, the universe, my life. I love shining benevolence on everyone and everything around me.

I love feeling needed and loved, accepted and accepting.

I love being able to write again. I love my thoughts exploding onto your screen in tiny grey characters.

I love smiling and laughing with every inch of me.

I love relaxing. I love feeling free.

I love life. 

I love the dreaminess, the effortless ease and perfection of today. I love the inherent peace, the total sense of rightness, calm, acceptance and bliss.

I love today. 

Its not perfect, but today it doesn't have to be. 

~Sam 

Sam's List of What's Hot and What's Snot About Superpowers

So I've decided to just pretend that all my work doesn't exist and waste hours online being an "internet troll", as a friend would put it. This post has been in my draft box for EVER, and tonight I decided to just get rid of it. As always, I hope you like it!


What's Hot and What's Snot About Various Superpowers: 

All the tele's:
Telekinesis: You don't have to move! Ever! What can be better than that?!
 Telepathy: You can transmit secret messages without the hassles of coding, decoding, and counter-coding, and the possibility of code-breaking. And you don't have to waste energy in talking, or worry about people overhearing you, or of being in hearing distance of each other. No phone bills or internet problems, just voices in your head.
Technopathy: It's defined as the ability to manipulate technology. Which, unless you're like Stephen Hawking or something, is something we all need help with. Ergo, it's an awesome superpower, one which I desperately wish I had. Imagine going, "Laptop! Unfreeze. NOW!" and actually having it respond instead of just sassing you with that annoying implacable face.

What's Snot: We'd all get really, really fat and then die.

Mind Reading: Do I even need to tell you how awesome this would be, especially for someone like me who can't read people very well?

What's Snot: Ignorance is bliss. I'd get to know a lot of things which I think I'd rather not know. Also, if people knew you were reading their mind while you were reading it, it probably wouldn't be too useful because they'd eventually learn to control their thoughts; if they didn't know, it'd be plain creepy because people might be reading my mind right now and I wouldn't even know it. But if I was the only one in the world with the power, then it would be perfect. (Yeah, I'm a hypocrite. Sue me.)

Super Strength: Meh. Don't really care about this one, though it would help me win a lot of fights, and get away with whatever I want, because most people don't really wanna mess with someone who looks like the Hulk.

What's Snot: I'd look like the Hulk. Even if I wasn't green, it's not the look a girl usually aspires for. If I could have it without the protruding muscles, it'd be acceptable I guess, though it's still not high on my list of awesome superpowers that I really, really want.

Predicting The Future: This would be both useful and annoying. Do I want to know I'm going to get an iPad for my birthday? Well, yes. But do I want to know that I'm going to get fired? Wait. Yes, I do. Never mind, forget specific examples. The general point is...

What's Snot: ...it would ruin the spontaneity of life, the surprises, the shocks, the twists and turns. Life would be one big anti-climax. Imagine if you knew that the movie would end happily ever after. Anticlimactic, right?
Though we know that anyway. And we watch it anyway. So..never mind, I don't know why this would be bad. Except I s'pose you'd forget to live in the present, and just count on the future.

Super Beauty: Do I need to say anything?

What's Snot: Most straight girls would hate you. (2015 edit: What was 2011 me even on?)

Super Speed: Honestly, I don't think there's a point in explaining the awesomeness of these; they're pretty obvious. Maybe I'll just stick with the what's snot bit. But..NEVER BEING LATE TO WORK! How awesome would that be?

What's Snot: Practical problems. Would your metabolism burn extra-fast too? Would you have to eat all the time? Would you be winded all the time? Would you feel like a snail and hate it if you had to walk at a normal pace, say, taking a long romantic walk with your boyfriend? Would everyone else also have super speed? In that case, wouldn't it just get negated? Important questions, those be.

Flying: Come on, everyone has dreamed of this one. Being able to just zoom over that traffic jam. Being able to see the bird's view without burning a hole in your pocket for a flight ticket and then being air-sick to top it all off. Being able to lift off whenever you want; having the peace of the sky's mausoleum all to yourself.

What's Snot: Superman, birds, planes, pollution, clouds, thunder, lightning and so on ruining your peace or banging into you. That weird dropping-feeling in your stomach. The possibility of air-sickness in mid-air and puking onto some poor girl below. Having to carry your significant other along for flights, which would be a problem if you didn't have Superman's super strength.

Invisibility: I'm sure this is what spies, detectives, sneaky teenagers and suspicious girls with cheating boyfriends dream of at night.

What's Snot: You're just invisible. You can still make noise. Also, being permanently invisible would suck;  being temporarily invisible would confront you with the teeny problem of what to do with your clothes. And you'd have to pay attention to your surroundings all time, else someone might just accidentally stab you with a knife. Also, you couldn't carry anything with you, ever.

Immortality: You have all the time in the world, you don't have to rush anywhere, ever again! And..I honestly don't know what. This one doesn't really appeal to me; a slightly elongated life would be fine because you'd have more time, which equals more fun, but living forever? Meh.

What's Snot: Boredom. Eventually not caring about anything, because its all transient and you'll outlive it all anyway. Also age=experience=cynicism, so you'd be an immortal who hates life, which doesn't really appeal to me.

Super Senses: Another one which doesn't appeal to me much (for the record, the ones I want most are the tele's, invisibility, mind reading and flying, not necessarily in that order). This might be useful to..hear the thief sneak in?

What's Snot:  Are you kidding me? What's not snot? You'd go crazy with all the noise and sights and smells and..touches? TMI taken to a whole new level. Do you really want to be able to hear the bodily functions of your neighbor?

Also, cracked.com has a similar-but-different list, which I found while 'researching' for this post and which you can find here.





~Sam

Why Freedom is a Myth

I wrote this for something else, but I have't updated in a long time, so here you go. 

Liberty, equality and fraternity.  Perhaps one of the most famous phrases of our times, these ideals were to be granted to all in the Utopian world imagined by the French Revolutionaries.  Unfortunately, the world today is no utopia. Let’s take just the first of these great ideals for now-liberty. Freedom. Independence. We may have won the latter years ago, but mankind in general is yet to attain the former, at least according to me. Freedom is a wonderful ideal, but in the end, that’s all it is. An ideal. A myth. A dream. An unattainable dream. Having to finish that presentation for work when you don't really give a damn about what you're talking about. Having to study for that test tomorrow when all you want to do is sleep. Having to smile, and talk to that lady when you’re bored out of your mind. Having to choose a career, a stream of study, anything because that is what pays, and that is what “society” respects and expects. Having to think five times before buying that pretty diamond necklace. Having to pander to social mores when all you want to do is kick and scream and shout and scratch. Is this the liberty we all believe we have? Is this “the right and power to act, believe, or express oneself in a manner of one's own choosing", which is what thefreedictionary defines liberty as?  Is this freedom? To me, freedom is, more than anything, the gift of choice. The choice to do what you want, when you want and how you want; to live the way you want, and die the same way.  To not be tied down by responsibility, or work, or grades, or marks, or ties, or anything. To be free, of judgements and expectations; discontentment and distress; fear and facade. Unfortunately, that is, always has been and in all probability always will be, just a dream.

~Sam

Dear phone-making companies,

I have nails. You know, those annoyingly delicate and stubbornly transparent things growing at the end of your fingers, which refuse to turn a nice white-natural-french-manicure-type-opaque despite your best efforts, and which you glower at every time you see friends with strong, healthy,  non-transparent nails? Yeah, those. You know how hard it is to make my finger tip touch my phone from under those? No, of course you don't, because if you did, you'd manufacture more effing nail-sensitive ("resistive" is the technical term, they tell me) touch phones! Please go back to the Stone Age and start making resistive phones again. I don't care if capacitive phones are more advanced or progressive or fancy. I just want to be able to use my nails. That's all. Is that too much to ask? 

~Thanking you and sincerely hoping you'll heed my request before I have to take more stringent action (like having to cut off my talons, or maybe just sharpen them on your heads), Sam. 

Our Forefathers Were Wise

Finally some time to write! One of the few advantages of falling sick, I suppose.

Anyway. I was thinking the other day, the older I get, the more I realize that all those maxims we've been hearing since we were little children-knowledge is power, a bird in hand is better than two in the bush, etc, etc-they're all so true.

• Knowledge is power. The more dirt you have on someone, the easier it is to blackmail them into doing something for you, as my friends have demonstrated time and again. 
• Ignorance is bliss. You were perfectly content with your life until you saw that new Guess bag which just came out, and learned of its existence, and all of a sudden, the world became a darker place. Or until you found out about that surprise test or whatever. 
• A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, as Wormtail so wonderfully showed us. [If you don't get that reference, you don't deserve to be here. Or you could, you know, just comment and ask me to explain. Or just find yourself some time to read one of the greatest series ever written.]
• A penny saved is a penny earned. Which, in today's world, just translates to "A pound not gained is a pound lost", which everyone knows is the truth. 
• A golden key can open any door-is there anyone on this planet who can't be bribed somehow or the other into doing something? 
• A leopard cannot change its spots, and I'm yet to meet a reformed bitch (screw trying to be PG-13).
• Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, as that mismatched couple living down any street can attest to. Also, why would he leave Jennifer to marry Angelina? Why, Brad, why?!  Ditto 'love is blind'. 
• You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. You can ground me, but you can't make me work. 
• When in Rome, do as Romans do. And don't wear miniskirts in the Middle East. (Again, no offence meant to anyone of any religion or faith. Just an example.)
• Two heads are better than one. Ever heard of the Hydra? Even today, the word is used for any un-resolvable problem. 
• Truth is stranger than fiction. THEY WERE MARRIED FOR 72 DAYS! SEVENTY. TWO. DAYS!
• There's an exception to every rule. Including sanity, apparently. 
• The female of the species is deadlier than the male. A line from a poem, and I have but one word to say to this-mosquitoes. 
• Make hay while the sun shines. And don't ask your mom for permission to go to that party when she's busy working, or is pissed at someone. 

I could go on like this forever, but I think I've made my point. Which is..sometimes, old people can be right. And lame-sounding stuff can be true. 

~Sam

This is why I wish I were a gay guy.

"Nice guys are ugly, hot guys are assholes and nice hot guys are gay." Now in graph form. 

The accuracy of this picture is creepy.

~Sam