Because it's lovely.

I'd kill to be able to write like that.

"If I should have a daughter, instead of "Mom," she's gonna call me "Point B," because that way she knows that no matter what happens, at least she can always find her way to me. And I'm going to paint solar systems on the backs of her hands so she has to learn the entire universe before she can say, "Oh, I know that like the back of my hand." And she's going to learn that this life will hit you hard in the face, wait for you to get back up just so it can kick you in the stomach. But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air. There is hurt, here, that cannot be fixed by Band-Aids or poetry. So the first time she realizes that Wonder Woman isn't coming, I'll make sure she knows she doesn't have to wear the cape all by herself because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. Believe me, I've tried. "And, baby," I'll tell her, don't keep your nose up in the air like that. I know that trick; I've done it a million times. You're just smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back to a burning house, so you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire to see if you can save him. Or else find the boy who lit the fire in the first place, to see if you can change him." But I know she will anyway, so instead I'll always keep an extra supply of chocolate and rain boots nearby, because there is no heartbreak that chocolate can't fix. Okay, there's a few heartbreaks that chocolate can't fix. But that's what the rain boots are for, because rain will wash away everything, if you let it. I want her to look at the world through the underside of a glass-bottom boat, to look through a microscope at the galaxies that exist on the pinpoint of a human mind, because that's the way my mom taught me. That there'll be days like this. ♫ There'll be days like this, my momma said. ♫ When you open your hands to catch and wind up with only blisters and bruises; when you step out of the phone booth and try to fly and the very people you want to save are the ones standing on your cape; when your boots will fill with rain, and you'll be up to your knees in disappointment. And those are the very days you have all the more reason to say thank you. Because there's nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it's sent away. You will put the wind in winsome, lose some. You will put the star in starting over, and over. And no matter how many land mines erupt in a minute, be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life. And yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting, I am pretty damn naive. But I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar. It can crumble so easily, but don't be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it. "Baby," I'll tell her, "remember, your momma is a worrier, and your poppa is a warrior, and you are the girl with small hands and big eyes who never stops asking for more." Remember that good things come in threes and so do bad things. And always apologize when you've done something wrong, but don't you ever apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining. Your voice is small, but don't ever stop singing. And when they finally hand you heartache, when they slip war and hatred under your door and offer you handouts on street-corners of cynicism and defeat, you tell them that they really ought to meet your mother.

Thank you. Thank you.

(Applause)

Thank you.

(Applause)

Thanks.

(Applause)

Thank you.

(Applause)"

-Sarah Kay

~Sam

The Beginning of a New Era?

Well, my copy of George R.R. Martin's "Game of Thrones" has finally arrived. I read about 75 pages so far, and it's pretty promising. Will it be the next big thing for me? Well, I'll just have to read on and find out. As of now, I'm already immersed in the book. I really hope it doesn't disappoint me...and I also hope that it never ends. I hate it when epic books end. It fucks with my brain. Also, I have considered watching the T.V. show. But I'm waiting to finish the books that are out first. So yeah.. I'll keep you guys posted(If you even care).
I just discovered that my thumb hurts when I type. And also that my glee finale torrent is done. And that it's past 3 A.M....well there goes my normal functioning REM cycle.

I used the word "well" a lot. Sorry, I'll try to stop. 

Of Suicide and Apologies

We've been horrible, horrible people. I know. We haven't posted in ages, and I haven't posted something original in even longer. That's more from a lack of things to say than from being busy, honestly, though we've been that, too. I noticed that out of the 50-odd posts I have, I only like about a handful-the ones that came to be spontaneously and not out of this feeling that I needed to blog, ones like this, this, this and maybe this. So I figured I'd rather just not write than write crap.
Anyway, we'll try to be more regular now, now that we're relatively freer.


Now that we've got the apologies are out of the way, let's get down to business. Suicide.
So as I said, we've been pretty busy lately, working on something quite important for us. The importance of the task is relevant and cannot be overstated. National security, life and death, etc, etc, don't even begin to cover it.
This is a paraphrased version of a conversation I had at the time (It was funnier when it happened):

Me: I really hope this works out. If it doesn't, I'm telling you, I think I'll just kill myself. *stretches her back, which aches after a long day of laptop-staring, at that moment* *stares at the ceiling* *laughs at the irony of the situation* Ohmygod, guess what? I just looked up, and what do I see? A hook. A very convenient looking, artfully placed hook. Which I've never seen before, in the million times I've looked at the ceiling since I moved here. Hahaha, maybe it's a sign! Now all I need is to find a rope and learn how to tie that stupid knot. =P"
Friend: *laughs along* *after a moment* Wait, you're not serious are you?

No, I wasn't serious. Of course I wasn't serious. No thing, no matter how important it is, should be enough to make you kill yourself. Make you want to kill yourself, sure. But to actually do it? That's a whole new story. And it's a sad state of affairs in the world if, when you threaten to do that, people actually feel the need to ask you whether you're serious. I can't even blame them, I do the same, because so many people have done it in the past that you just can't be sure anymore.
 I don't pity the people who commit suicide. They might have had crappy lives. They might have felt that they had nobody to help them, nobody to love them, nobody to care. But they had their choice. And they chose. It's the people left behind that I really pity. The mothers, the fathers, the friends, the secret crush-harbor-ers and likers who could never confess their feelings to you. Who never got the chance to. They, they're the ones who'll kill themselves everyday now, the ones who had no choice.
Don't get me wrong. People who commit suicide may have had their reasons. I might have done the same in their position. But really, there are suicide help websites and numbers. Call one of them, if you think you have no one to love you, if you think facing the unknown would really be better than roughing it out on Earth, if you can't think of anything better to do, despite the fact that there are always penguins waiting to welcome you in Antarctica. Go hug your mom. Don't post it on some godforsaken blog and expect God to land you a savior in your comments section, or on facebook, two minutes before you do it. Don't expect people to read your mind.  And don't do things that'll fill them with guilt when you're gone.
Because that, that's just selfish.

UPDATE: For no particular reason apart from maturity and experience, I am now more sympathetic to the plight of suicide-committers. Contemplating suicide when you're happy and when you're irrational and alone are two very different things. However, I do feel the same amount of pity for those left behind, those who didn't have the chance to save their loved one.

~Sam

Our blog is flat-lining, I know, I'm sorry. We're not dead, just busy. We'll hopefully be back in a couple of days. Until then, ~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

Opportunity Crisis.

I'm not a practical person, essentially. But the world turned me into one. I must act as though I'm genuinely practical. But I'm not. I want options. All of them. I want everything the world has to offer. Unearthly beings would think so less of us if we didn't seize the opportunities at hand. Having no sight is not being blind. Being blind is, seeing something but out-rightly ignoring it because your practical mind tells you to. I had dreams. But reality came in the way. Atleast that's what my parents made me believe. That your dreams don't come true, and the sooner you break them, the less it hurts. I don't let go that easily. Then i realized, it doesn't always have to be that way. B Quilliam once said, "There is a fine line between dreams and reality, it's up to you to draw it." What a brilliant way to look at it. If there's one thing I learned, its that, no one can help you. I'm sorry but parents don't help at all. They might offer support, but truth of the matter is, one can only help one self. You do that, and your good. 

You know you're on the other side of the generation gap when..

...

• Your 12 year old cousin informs you that you have no idea what it's like being a sixth grader, and your sixth grade was a long, long time ago.
• You're too tired to out-argue said 12 year old. 
• The little people start grumbling about you instead of with you.
• You frown on what "kids these days" are wearing.
• You're deemed to be "okay" at Temple Run by the 12 year old cousin.
• You remember to look at the price of things before wanting them [as opposed to just telling mommy that you want this, this and that].
• You know what a mortgage is.
• People start having to listen to you whether they want to or not.

~Sam

Books and T.V. Shows.

The title of the post explains exactly what I want to talk about.

So recently I ordered Rachel Vincent's latest book, Blood Bound. It's her new adult novel, and it's bloody brilliant! The only book I've read in a REALLY long time. Damn. Rachel Vincent, you've done it again. You are now the favorite author. How does she manage to write such books?! And the story isn't anything like you've ever read before. The female protagonist is a total bad ass. It has guns and thugs and thrill and romance. If you like action, then this is the book for you.

Moving on to T.V. shows, the last episode of One Tree Hill came out again. A part of me just died watching it. You know that feeling you get when a T.V. show or a good series of books is ending? That aching feeling like you don't know what to do with your life? Yeah, I'm totally feeling that right now. Earlier today when I was talking to Sam, she told me to relax and said that I still had other shows like supernatural. To this, I said that I am a delusional person who lives in various parallel universes and one of them just ended. *dies* You're probably shocked that I watch One Tree Hill. * no comment* 

Power of Words

Words are powerful. Think about it. They mean pretty much the same thing, but doesn't "man" sound so much weirder than "guy"? More distant, somehow. Stranger, more formal, more mysterious. Older, maturer.
"A strange man."  "Some random guy."
Feel the difference?
The power of words, people. The power of words.

[And yes, the whole point of this blog post was so that I could say those last two lines in the spooky, eerie, wise manner. Yes, its spooky, eerie and wise. Shut up.]

~A very jobless, Sam

And we're back to talking about guys.

UPDATE: This post requires way, way, way more context. Suffice to say that neither of us are giggle twelve year old One Direction fans, and that I do not spend all my free time telling Marsh that I love her. The only reason this is still on here is for posterity, and it might be better if you just skipped it.


Fortunately, this time I'm not the one doing the (c)raving.

Remember my friend the Marshmallow? She's back! And she can read Arabic and has an insanely inappropriate crush on Zayn Malik. The rest, I'll leave you to figure out for yourself.




Marsh: So I'm following this blog which states random "amazing" facts about One Direction. Today's fact was "Zayn can read in Arabic" and I was like, "YOU DON'T SAY!" -_-

Me: Ahahahaha! God I love you Marshy! Enough to spend actual balance to tell you that. You just made me literally laugh out loud when I was all depressed about how every other guy out here is hot. [I'm travelling.] I finally got what you mean about hotness being painful.

Marsh: See? You should listen to me more. Hotness was created as a tool for sadism.
Seriously! When I read that fact I was like "OF COURSE he knows how to read Arabic! Half the people in the world know how to read Arabic! His freaking NAME should've been an indiciation to the fact that he knows how to read Arabic! Even I know how to read Arabic! Gah!

Me: Seriously. Annoying. And now I can't even take comfort in the fact that I'm a nice, non-sadistic person anymore.
I LOVE YOU! That message is going in my "epic" folder. And. Being able to read Arabic IS amazing to most people you know. Including me. Like being able to read Chinese or something.

Marsh: Dude, there are more people in the world who can read Arabic than who can read Chinese. But yeah.
I saw this interview in which they asked him that if he was a girl, which guy would he date? And he instantly replied "Channing Tatum". And I was like, "Thats it. This guy is my soulmate."

Me: STOP MAKING ME LAUGH OUT LOUD IN PUBLIC! AND SPEND PRECIOUS BALANCE! DO NOT reply after this. And yes. He's your 17-year old, minor, illegal-to-date soulmate :D

The End.

UPDATE: Sorry, apparently I was wrong about that last bit. Here's Marsh's correction: "HE IS NOT MY 17 YEAR OD MINOR,ILLEGAL TO DATE SOULMATE! HE'S MY 19 YEAR OLD,TOTALLY APPROPRIATE,LEGAL-TO-DATE CRUSH!"

~Sam

Right Here, Right Now

Missed my music posts? *silence* OKAY FINE. Don't answer.

Currently listening to Somebody That I Used To Know - Gotye ft. Kimbra
Currently obsessed with Temple of Thought, Ballad of Jeremiah Peacekeeper , Cradled in Love - Poets of the Fall ; Classical solo- Mark Knopfler
Current mood- Content

Hello Random People

        Hi. Long time no see. I was kind of too busy wasting time, since I couldn't do that before. So yesterday I watched the first episode of  Doctor Who and Dexter. So far I like Dexter better, but I'm keeping an open mind and have decided to watch the second episode (although I think the world is against it because this is the third time I'm trying to download the goddamn torrent). If you want to get mind fucked, watch Dexter or Supernatural or Walking Dead.
         And I don't like how blogger doesn't have automatic spell check.  

An Ode To Boredom

Boredom is when you sit and stare at the screen and speak along with every single Big Bang Theory dialogue just because you have nothing better to do.
Boredom is watching Leonard and Sheldon play around in the ball pen while dreaming about Chinese takeaway.
Boredom is Googling Chuck Lorre because you need to see what the guy who created Big Bang looks like. [He looks like Al Pacino btw. Creepily like Al Pacino.]
Boredom is when you watch the same ads on the same channel over and over again because the remote is too far away, and you're too lazy to check what else is on anyway.
Boredom is when you go back to old blog posts and randomly start writing because the laptop was in front of you and you finally got tired of ads.
Boredom is blankness. Boredom is trying to remember what Macbeth said about sleep. Boredom is staring at your facebook page waiting for something to happen.
Boredom is Googling "troglodyte" because Sheldon said it and you didn't know what it meant, and because it was something to do. [PS: It means "caveman".]
Boredom is stalking Dan Bergstein repetitively, even though you know nothing new has happened since five minutes ago because he, unlike you, probably has a life.
Boredom is writing an ode on boredom.
Boredom is this.

~Sam

Never Say No To Panda!

Hi!
Sorry, I'm desperate to blog so I'm just going to keep posting videos until I find something to say.

Credits: My Noodle-Cat ^_^

~Sam 

Reblogs

I've come across a lot of deep stuff the past few days. Very enlightening, very hope-giving. Here's some of it:

From: wonderingsince1993.tumblr.com

Wishing

Do you know that feeling when you wish and dream and hope and desire for something so much that you feel like it’s slowly killing you from the inside? When every great thing that happens in your life does not seem great enough? When you feel a void in your life even when you’re on your feet and your hands are full 24/7?
Do you know that feeling when no matter how perfect people perceive your life to be,your mind keeps thinking “All that glitters is not gold” in a loop? When you’re convinced that the life you want will never be the life you get? When the sky is ablaze with beauteous sunlight but all you notice is the vexing heat? When no amount of comedy sitcoms are able to make you laugh?
Do you know that feeling when the one person you are willing go to the end of the world-to the end of time itself-for is the one person whose identity is withheld from you by destiny? Or when you’re convinced you have found the one you’re meant to spend the rest of you life with but that person is completely oblivious to your existence? When you’ve realised that the opposite of love is not hatred,it’s indifference? When all you wish for is to be noticed just once? When all you wish for is just a second look? When all you wish for is one chance?
Do you?

The Spirit

What is essential for the survival of a man is an indomitable spirit.
Ever since I can remember,I’ve been this kind of girl who randomly stares off into space and people would ask me what I was thinking or worrying or dreaming about. Well for the most part I just dream about what I’m going to do when I starting earning my own money and the exotic places I’m going to visit and the guy I’m going to fall in love with. Up until a while back,I was convinced that my dreams would just remain that-dreams. Every grand plan that I made was always suffixed with “As if that’s ever going to happen.” First,I just wrote off everything to destiny and convinced myself that if something is meant to happen,it will. Then,as time went by,I convinced myself that none of my dreams  are ever going to come true and signed it all off to reality.
Then,an epiphany happened. One night I was helping my mom out with dinner and I just thought aloud,”I want to see London someday.” And she replied,with a snort of derision,”Get real. If something has to happen,it will. That’s when realised. I thought to myself,”Who is my mom to say that it’s not going to happen? Who is ANYBODY to say that it’s not going to happen?”
I accepted the fact that I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. And neither does anyone else. “Realistic” people are convinced that everything that has been or has not been happening will remain unchanged and that dreaming only leads to disappointment. But then what kind of living is that?
I want to travel the world. It’s too big for me to not go wandering around in it. And I’m the only one who can help me in fulfilling my dream. Who is to say that I won’t? And even if someone does,I have to uphold my conviction that I can do whatever I want with my life. I have to make my own destiny. And ever since I’ve realised that,the future seems like a brighter place. To keep it that way,I have to turn a deaf ear to the people who say that I can’t and preserve my indomitable spirit.

From: Anonymous


The truth is, average people aren't happy. Look at it this way.

What do you do with a life? You think, you do, you feel.

What makes a person average? Average thinking, average doing, average feeling.

These people are not happy, because they are average.

They care about things that only immediately affect them, they don't think with effort.
They don't do the things they want to do, they are afraid,
Their emotions are average too.

They will love, but their love will be selfish, it will be for comfort, for shelter, from all the things that they are afraid of, from all the things that will affect them because of their lack of wisdom.

They will be loved for the same reasons too. Because love requires understanding, and only another average person will understand them.

Wouldn't you rather be someone who thinks harder? Not only about the things that are, but things that will be. Things that will not only affect you, but also others around you. 

Wouldn't you rather be someone who has ambition? Not only to do the things that you have to do, but want to do. Things that will not only help you, but also others around you.

Wouldn't you rather love someone to share your hopes and dreams with, and help each other in achieving them, or indeed achieving them together? And not because they want someone to comfort and shelter them, so that they can feel okay? The same way you would have wanted if you were average.

Oh, and ignorance is not bliss. 
Ignorance is having an infatuation with the star cheerleader in school because you don't know about the absolute angel who lives down the street. 
It's Transformers 3 being your favourite movie because you didn't know about Inception.
It's being preoccupied with movies and seeking attention from the cheerleader when nations are corrupt, and constantly at war. 
It's about thinking these problems are important because you didn't know about Anthropogenic Global Warming.

Ignorance will almost certainly be the reason that you deprived yourself of life’s greatest pleasures and indulged in stupid, trivial things that come at a great cost, for your whole life. And it will also certainly lead to your ruin.

If a little logic and reasoning is utilised, the fact that striving to be more and knowledge/wisdom are very much intertwined, becomes clear. 



~Sam

Clowns and life sized figures.

Isn't it weird how when we were kids, we used to love life sized figures of mickey mouse and Pluto and take pictures with them at Disneyland; and now, they creep you out?
Ever since i was a kid, clowns always creeped me out, but i loved mickey and Minnie and other life sized Disney characters at Disneyland. Now, I avoid them. Freaky much?

Sam Winchester is scared of clowns. (Yay. I'm watching the latest episodes!)

The Danger of the Single Story

Wonderfully put.

~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

Announcement

Helloooo, my pretty little popsicles!
Its been a while since I saw you, and I'm not here to see you now. I'm sorry, but I still haven't been able to come up with anything I'd like to say. This post is just to tell y'all that Malko has been a hiding a secret blog from us (seinarda.tumblr.com), home of awesome pictures and gifs.

So if you can't access this blog for whatever reason, you can find her there. And me from there, somewhere.
That's all for now!

Sayonara!
~Sam

Yeah,I'm alive.

Hello! I know haven't been posting much, I promise, after 26th I'll post everyday(as long as I have something to blog about). I've been really busy. I actually had something substantial for you guys but it's in my notebook(not the software kind. It's quite dark and moody and long. I think I'll post it soon; although I'm not really sure how the response will be.

Women's Day.

Its women's day!
Here are a few songs which suit the occasion.
Lightening crashes-Live Listen
Daughters-John MayerListen

Two Great tracks.

Das Auto

Because I love this ad.

~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

More ramblings. (This is what I do when I have things to say but not enough to make an entire post.)

Hi.
If you're a hyper-sensitive guy well aware of his manliness who refuses to carry his girlfriend/mom's handbag, you should probably leave right now.
As should sane persons and other people who like coherence in their blog posts.

----------

So first up, if having a baby is anywhere near as uncomfortable as the processes that make childbirth possible, I'm never doing it. Screw experience, one magical moment is not going to make up for nine months of torture. I'll just adopt and pledge my soul to Greenpeace instead.

(Greenpeace because I'm being all eco-friendly by not adding to the population, and because everything-literally everything, from sushi to sanitation- can be linked to the environment. And therefore by extension to Greenpeace.)
(Also, congratulations. You now know that I've never experienced the joys of childbirth.
 (or have I?)
 Bravo.)

----------

God.
Why, God, why? Why do you hate me? And if you don't, why do you act like you do? Why do you ignore all my sorry's and pleas and thank you's? Do you not care about me? Why did you make me, then, if your plan all along was to leave me?
Why do you not listen to me? Why do you not acknowledge my existence? Why do you ignore all my thousands of thought-messages? Are you not telepathic? But you're God. If you're not telepathic, what hope do the rest of us have?

----------

Google.

If Google was a person (a guy person) I would marry it. It has everything I want. It's amazing and it's popular, it's successful and it knows everything without being an idiot about it, it looks good and it plays pranks on people, it's unique and it's accessible, it's multifaceted and it has a sense of humor, it's ultra-cute and I bet if it had a smile, it would have dimples.
So there you go. My perfect man is a search engine. 

Though I totally love Sergey Brin, too. Marry me?

----------

And that is what PMS and a soppy Valentine video from Google does to me.

This post is probably going to come back to haunt and embarrass the life out of me later.

Meh. I'll go eat my Subway now. (Subway <3)

~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

You know what the worst thing is?

I know who my perfect guy is. I know he exists. I know he's out there. I know he's not some unattainable dream.

I know he's out of my reach.

He's perfect.
He has dimples, the most beautiful smile.
He plays the guitar and the piano and sings, and I have every reason to believe he writes well.
He's gorgeous, he's talented; he seems nice.
He's funny, he's modest despite having every reason to be arrogant; he's beautiful.
He's perfect.
His looks, his history, his eyes, his teeth, his hair, his everything.
He's everything I've ever wanted; he's the perfect personification of my ideal man.

Unfortunately, he's also taken.

:'(


~Sam

Shocking News! *gasp*

Hello, people, animals, organisms and aliens! Welcome to my lair. Muahahaha!
No, I'm not a vampire, but I have something to tell y'all non existent readers. But, before I go on to tell you that deep dark secret of mine, I would like to talk to you guys, just talk.
You see, the thing that I don't understand is whether we have regular readers (in which case, we thank you all for putting up with us) or just random people who stumble upon this blog (if you're one of those people and bothered to read this post, thank you).  But there is something you can help us with since we would really like to know how many regular readers we actually have. So if you don't mind, just leave in a comment letting us know whether you're a regular or random. Also, if you want us to write about any specific stuff, ANY special requests,let us know. Feedback, people!
 Okay so now that I've intelligently used an awesome post title to draw your attention to get you to read all of that crap up there ^ , I will move on to what that title actually was about. *sigh* Here it goes. You're all going to enjoy me saying this. I'm just going to go ahead and say it. Idownloadedajustinbiebersongandactuallyenjoyedit. No, really it wasn't all THAT bad. Now I know that those of you who know me, consider me to be a hard rock or ANYTHING apart from bieber type person, but yes , its happened I, Malko, enjoyed Justin Bieber's music. I meant it when I said it wasn't half that horrible. I mean, its just crazy that people listen to Timberlake and Usher but not him. And I've realized that it's the age. Add ten years on him and I bet my life that he wouldnt have half the haters he actually has now. I guess I'm kind of a hypocrite that way or whatever but yeah. The reason that so many people hate him is plainly because they're jealous. How many people get fame at the age he did? Now, don't me wrong, I'm not saying I'm a "belieber"( I recently found out that devoted fans of bieber call themselves that. Wow. Okay.), I'm just saying I don't have anything against the guy. So there you go, a somewhat-sort of interesting post... I guess. This is malko after a LONG time saying maytheforcebewithyou.

Update from Sam: People might also not like Bieber because he's a sixteen (seventeen? eighteen?) year old with a twelve year old's voice. But yeah, I like his songs too (sometimes). Don't go hatin' on the music for the guy.
Also, I've been accused of talking too much (shocking, I know). So if you're planning on actually commenting (doubtful), please tell me if you think my posts are too long. I'll try to cut it down =)
THIS POST IS NOT MEANT FOR PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY KNOW US.
kthnxbye!

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.

This is how our baby was born.

"Baby" obviously referring to this esteemed blog that you're looking at right now.

So if you've ever wondered how a Grammar Nazi and a chick who hates proofreading landed up writing a blog together, wonder no more! For this is how it happened:
Malko: You should listen to Breakeven.
Me: By?
Malko: The Script.
*some sort of confusion*
Malko: YOU'VE NEVER HEARD THE SCRIPT BEFORE?
Me: Of course I have! You're the one who introduced me to them!
Malko: Oh yeah. Of course. I'm awesome. XD *after a moment* You're awesome, too. Webeawesome.
Me: webeawesome! @hotmail.com. Future email id for queries about our awesome bestseller book.
Malko: Yeah! OR...we could blog! WE SHOULD TOTALLY BLOG!
Me: YES! Yes yes yes yes YES!

Fin. (Because that's so much better than "The End").



And if you ever wondered how a Grammar Nazi and a depressed emo chick became friends in the first place: Thus is the combined power of facebook and Dan Bergstein.


And yes, this is the totally awesome 100th post we promised you guys. Totally anticlimactic, right? *looks vaguely apologetic*



~Sam

Winter -Updated

Okay, this blog is getting wayy too depressing/serious/unawesome. Jeez, I never knew I was such a drama queen! Anyway, we'll do something about that soon, promise, but for now hopefully this will revive your spirits a little bit, though this is another one of those posts that I'm posting just because its in my head and I'm desperate to write something. So sorry and all, we'll try becoming awesome again as soon as inspiration strikes!

In other news, we're 99! :D

Anyway, moving on..

"Wintry" is pretty much one of my favorite adjectives of all time. I love the way it sounds, the way it falls off your tongue, the image it creates in your mind, the harsh beauty it has. For similar reasons, I love 'winter', too.

But I hate winter. The freezing, the laziness it induces, the having to get out of my warm blankets in favor of a cold bathroom, the numbness, the perpetually cold fingers and feet. I hate it, I detest it, I wish it never happened. The worst thing is winter sounds so good-the warm evenings by a fire, the snowfall, the hot chocolate and good books/movies. The love, the cuddling together, the Christmas cheer. Unfortunately, things are rarely as pleasant as they seem in books. My winters are usually something like this:

*alarm rings*
*snooze*
*do that for about half an hour*
*finally wake up, and lay fantasizing under the warm blankets*
*eventually decide to get out of bed and face the big bad world*
*get out of bed*
*immediately regret the decision*
*consider getting back in*
*decide to brave it out (or, alternatively, to get back in, in which case I'm usually late and have a horrible morning)*
*shuffle slowly towards bathroom, which is currently as appealing as a dirty dank dungeon*
*try to prolong the journey for as long as possible*
*grab the brush on the way--no, I don't keep my brush in the bathroom, ever since that whole thing. I don't care if its not confirmed, this is one place where I don't mind being extra-careful*
*stare hatefully at the tap*
*gather up my courage and rinse my toothbrush, doing my best to keep my fingers as far away from the water as possible*
*finish brushing, etc, cursing the world the whole time (or composing in my head blog posts which will never see the light of day, or singing "We Shall Overcome" to myself and trying to pep myself into a shower)*

And the rest of the day is pretty much the same.

So you see why I have a problem.



I'm out of words now, so I'll go away. Again, we're hoping to get interesting again soon, and feel free to comment!


Love and all.
~Sam





Hi! Malko here! If you're wondering why I'm sharing the post with Sam, it's because I wanted to save the 100th post for something awesome. Well, awesomer than our regular posts.
So Sam here just described how her mornings go. If you found that amusing, i'm sure you'll enjoy reading my daily agenda.

*alarm rings at 6 AM*
*hit snooze and happily go back to sleep knowing that I have more time to sleep*
*what seems to be a moment later..*
Mom: "Get up! Don't you have work to do?" *death glare*
*get off the bed*
*die inside like I lost the love of my life (the love being my blanket and wondrous comfy  bed)*
*sleepily brush teeth*
*check phone and reply to texts and facebooks*
*procrastinate*
*procrastinate with book in front of my face*
*procrastinate by staring a spot on a page and then turning it to stare at another spot*
*breakfast*
*procrastinate*
*shower*
*lunch and GLEE(spoiler: FINN PROPOSES TO RACHEL!)/ ONE TREE HILL/SUPERNATURAL/HIMYM*
*try to work. fail*
*wait for mom to leave the house and then go back to watching t.v shows*
*determinedly try to work, but get distracted on sparknotes (obviously)*
*dinner*
*procrastinate*
*succumb to blissful slumber*

Oh and in case you're wondering what distracted me on sparknotes, its THIS.

Weird obsession phases 2.

2012.

I'm scared. I'm terrified. No, even that would be an understatement. It's 2012. Another year to disappoint me. Another year that I'll feel like I've wasted. Looking back at the previous year, I reluctantly question myself about what I've accomplished-nothing. Its an important year to me. This year will determine the fate of my career, and I instead of working towards it, I'm reading eragon. I think I'm suffering from indecisiveness. Go ahead, add that to the list. What's the point of happy moments when they disappear as they come? Life is a tease. It builds you up and it breaks you down, leaving you vulnerable and deranged. I may be a necrophile. Fantastic. The list just keeps getting better and better doesn't it? I apoligize for posting such depressing posts, but truth be told; life isn't always about butterflies and unicorns. But the next post will be on the lighter side.
On a happier note, eragon is turning out to be pretty good(yes, I know I should've read it a long time ago but I'm reading it now aren't I?). Books always draw attention when you need to be working. So yeah, that kinda sucks.

Empty Pages

I'm sorry. In advance. My last post sucked, and this one is going the same way, at least in my head. I highly doubt you give a damn about what I'm going to say, but I want to talk and vent and have no one talk back, and empty pages are perfect for that. My diary is unavailable, and this is the next best thing. It's actually the best thing, I prefer blogging to diary-writing anyway. It seems less emo-ish, is that weird? And more productive, somehow, and less childish. I don't even know what I'm saying any more.

Whatever. I've tried to write so often in the past few days-or is it weeks? I don't even remember when the last time was that I uploaded a proper post, with something that I actually wanted to talk about instead of just random updates and thoughts. Well, they're all random thoughts, but you get what I mean. I hope.

I hope. I try to. In God, in human beings, in justice. It's usually for no reason. No miracle saves the day, people don't suddenly become wise and wonderful, the world is still unfair. And yet I persevere, because you have to hope, right? You have to hope to live, because without hope there really is no point to it all. If you don't hope for a better tomorrow, then why would you suffer today?
Maybe fear is another reason to live, though. Fear of the unknown-fear that what comes after death might actually be worse than life. I don't want to live of fear.
This is funny, because I was actually going to do a post once on the reasons to live. The reasons that I live. It's still sitting in my drafts-box, empty.

The thing is, I think too much. I think and I think and I reach a conclusion, and then I think some more and I ruin it all. Whoever said ignorance is bliss had the right idea. Knowledge might be power, but I'd choose bliss over power any day. The more I think, the less certain I become, and the less certain I become, the more frustrated I am. And God am I frustrated right now. Nothing is certain in my life, because there's so much blasted information everywhere, and I'm so ignorant of it-not of all of it, that would be too beneficent of the Gods; I know enough of it to know that I should know more, but not enough to make me feel like I know enough.

That makes sense, right?

I'm thinking so much that I'm losing track of what's real. I have almost no opinions any more because I can see both sides and neither can convince me. And I liked having opinions.  I wish I could go back to being an ignorant 12 year old whose biggest concern was classroom bullying, who didn't give a damn about life and death and religion and economy, who didn't have to give a damn about any of it, who was old enough to have a bit of freedom, young enough to enjoy that limited freedom without yearning for more, and innocent enough to endure all those little pleasures and problems without thinking too much about them. I want to be a kid again. I don't want to be old. I don't want to be wise. Enlightenment never got anyone anywhere. The wise people in all the movies and books are always alone, always lonely, have you ever noticed? I want to be an average, happy human being. I don't care about being extraordinary any more. I don't care about leaving a mark on the world. I don't care about the shit that's happening to the world, the wars and the subterfuge and the global warming and the poverty and the sickness and the sins. I just want to be happy. If it's just an illusion, I don't care. If you were happy in a dream, would you want to wake up?


~Sam

Note to self.

Continue the weird obsession phases' posts.

Right here, right now.

Currently listening to never say never by The Fray.
Currently obsessed with Build God, Then We'll Talk by Panic! At The Disco.
Current mood: Nerdy.

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

I wanted to post this asap, while it's still fresh in my head.

It happened on Friday December 30th, but I never got around to blogging about it. I was too busy trying to make plans for new years. Oh! Silly me, HAPPY NEW YEAR PEOPLE!
Okay so where was I? Oh yeah....friday was awesome I was almost 100% content. Which for me is like once in a blue moon. I was smiling like an idiot. I honestly have the greatest friends. Sam, I know I told you that we couldn't blog about it, but I couldn't help it; it was just blissfull.
In case youre wondering what was on friday, December 30th, it was my birthday.
Also, if you saw what my friends got/made or saw how I spent that day, you'd be jealous. ^_^

Laughing At My Nightmare Nonprofit Update 1

Hello good people. If you've been following us from the very beginning or if you've read our previous posts, you'd remember me telling you about this guy with SMA (Spinal Muscular Atrophy). Well, he's setting up a non-profit organization and he needs our help for spreading the word. Please watch the video and help out. Spread the cheer. Happy holidays!

 It's ironic how this post is inclined towards positivity, while the other posts are well, depressing.

I go to sleep every night wishing that I never see the next morning, but it never happens.

Yes. I'm a very depressing person. Deal with it. Why shouldn't I be depressed? I am very disappointed with my life. I was going to post this yesterday, but it was Christmas; I didn't want to sound like the Grinch or Scrooge.
My Christmas was very un-merry. And so is my life.

Everything would be so much better if life was a T.V. show or a book.

Seriously. I would gladly spend my life hunting things, or married to a hot NBA star. Who wouldn't want to hang out with Sam and Dean Winchester? They're badass. And hot. You think they worry about how you did in school or how much money you make in a year? No. They don't give a rat's ass about all that bullcrap.

This is our life: Getting up for work. Worrying about that deadline. Trying to pay those ridiculous bills that seem to be increasing by the minute. Trying to accomplish something in life, getting into a "respectable" career so that the society accepts you, because if you don't wear a tie, your job sucks.
This is Sam and Dean Winchester's life: Kill monsters. Look good. Keep your ass alive.

Now doesn't that sound better?

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. 

Invisible Lines

There are so many invisible lines in our lives. That limit that separates a joke from an insult. That line after which we go from being a child to an adult, from being blissfully ignorant to understanding, to participating. From beginning to comprehend dirty jokes to making them. From understanding swear words to flinging them about. From licking the cream of the oreo to eating the whole thing. From being comforted by our mothers to comforting. From crying to bottling in. From using exclamations all the time to rarely using more than one. From typyng lyk ths to typing like this. From wishing you were grown up to wishing you weren't. From loving everyone to indifference. From sunshine to cynicism. All separated, but with such a hazy demarcation that you never even realize that there was a bridge, let alone know when exactly you crossed it.

~Sam

Merry Christmas people, and its early because I don't think I'll ever have more Christmas spirit in me than I do right now.

Its that time of the year again! Already :-S But no, fears are not for today. So. Merry Christmas! *smiles widely, radiating Christmas cheer from every tooth* I hope you all find what you're looking for, and get what you deserve and more, and are happy. Thank you, once again, for being a huge part of my happiness, now and ever since you got here.

Love you all,
Us.


Well, me, mostly, but I'm pretty sure Malko agrees.


Here are some pictures for you.

This is a happy, content ball, my "joy to the world" picture.

This is a happy penguin.

This is just happiness.

And this is me right now.
Well, not literally, but, ya'know. Metaphorically speaking. If the sun was shining and I was that girl and someone was there to take a picture at that moment when I did that, if I did that.

~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 use too many commas, don't I?

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 

An Epic Battle.

Okay, so if the decepticons and cute Japanese droids were two separate dance crews, and a battle-off between the two was held, the music played would sound something like THIS.

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